In the middle of a desolate land, a silver-eyed man wearing a black velvet coat crouched down and waved his hand above the ground. His look was concentrated as if he was trying to find something.

 

“Around here, huh?”

 

He muttered and a red hexagram surfaced from the depths of his pupils. It glowed and the sky brightened. A black and a white light then emerged from the man’s chest. They both formed the shape of a heart and seemed to be alternatingly beating together.

 

The black heart which seemed to be made of darkness was sucking in everything around it while the white heart, which resembled more a crystal, was exuding a glorious aura.

 

“[Fifth Forbidden Art, Adversus, Phoenix Crystallo] (Crystal Phoenix).”

 

He intoned with a soft and aloof voice. The two hearts resonated together and invoked a phoenix made of crystal in the sky. Its wings covered the sky as they were deployed. Although the phoenix’s body was magnificent and bright, its eyes were an amalgam of fluctuating shadows darker than black.

 

The bird shrieked and dived toward the ground. It went through the man who summoned it and merged with the earth.

 

A few seconds later, the ground shook as a humanoid-shaped mound was raised. A crystalline liquid fell from the sky and infiltrated the ground. The previously desolated nature was revitalized and the ‘mound’ slowly became organic.

 

Two horns grew on its head, its legs gained fur and hooves, the hands recovered their claws, and the rest of the body was recuperated until it was very imposing and muscular.

 

When the ground stopped trembling, and everything came back to normal, the five-meter tall monster that emerged from the ground opened its eyes. 

 

He looked left and right before staring at the man who resurrected him.

 

“…So, we meet again. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting this,” the goat demon opened his mouth and grinned. “Did you get into fashion, Arima? Your coat is quite fancy.”

 

Arima chuckled. “Good comeback, Baphomet. Don’t you want to know why I revived you?”

 

“I honestly don’t care about the ‘why’. But the ‘how’ is another story. How am I supposed to interpret my current situation?”

 

“You’re not an undead or an artificial life if you are wondering,” Arima smiled. “Back when I killed you with Estuans Sors’ flames, I made sure to retrieve your soul and conserve it. So, I actually didn’t remake your soul or anything of the sort. I just rebuilt your body and gave you back your soul. Nothing too complicated.”

 

Baphomet snickered and clenched his hands. “I see. Well, since I’m alive now, why don’t you tell me about what happened after you ‘killed’ me?”

 

Arima shrugged. “Sure.”

 

He then proceeded to explain what happened during the war between Heaven and Hell.

 

Baphomet listened silently and nodded. “I see. So, you killed Karaskan in the end, huh?”

 

“Indeed. You’re not angry? He was your brother after all.”

 

“So, you knew.”

 

“Of course. There’s nothing much I don’t know in this world anymore. I also met your father in fact. It’s partly because of him that I came here today. I transmitted your message incidentally.”

 

Baphomet was visibly surprised. “My father…? What about the other reason then?”

 

“Simply because I kind of like you. You were honorable even though your reputation wasn’t that bright. You also have a lot of potential for evolution.”

 

“Well, thank you, I guess. As for your question, I’m not angry. That idiotic brother knew what he was doing. Death was in his plan as well.”

 

“I understand,” Arima nodded. “Anyway, now that this is done, go in there,” he said and a large gate appeared behind him like a mirage.

 

Baphomet looked at it and frowned. “Isn’t that a soul gate?”

 

“It is. Mine to be exact. Go in, your father is there along with everyone else.”

 

Baphomet chortled and walked past to enter the gate. “Are you making your own soul into a house?”

 

“Right. My group is working on building a nice and cozy mansion at the moment,” Arima replied and Baphomet almost tripped in front of the soul gate. He meant that as a joke, but he got a serious answer in return. “You’ll see it when you go in. Go first. I have things to do before.”

 

“What things?”

 

“Well, first and foremost, I temporarily reconstructed this portion of Hell to make your resurrection easier. But now, I need to destroy it again because I will soon be getting rid of all the Original Lands across the five mother realities.”

 

“…what?” Baphomet was stunned and Arima smiled before pushing him inside the gate without looking at him.

 

He cracked his fingers afterward and looked around. “Let’s start.”

 

“{Wait, what about them?}” A calm voice echoed in Arima’s head. “{Should I remember you that you killed many gods and angels last time because you were in a hurry. As well as the Plane Guardians.}”

 

Arima groaned. “I collected all of their souls. I’ll resurrect them as I destroy their home and export them somewhere else.”

 

 

“{……Arima. That’s not it.}”

 

“I know.” Arima abruptly turned solemn.

 

“{…Then, you should go visit ‘her’ at least. I don’t think that woman will let you off the hook. No, it’s just impossible. You killed countless innocent lives when you blew up that Plane. You can’t escape the responsibility. And you obviously didn’t recover their souls in time. Go apologize before it’s too late.}

 

“...”

 

“{What? Are you scared?}”

 

Arima clicked his tongue and conjured a portal with a snap of his fingers. “Shut up.”

 

“{Splendid. It seems you need your ego to be hit a little to act.}”

 

“No. That woman is indeed scary. You’re right about that,” Arima responded and went through the portal he made.

 

“{…}” Krynox fell silent.

 

Arima arrived at a place that could only be described as absolute and utter void. There wasn’t even any color or matter. No light or even darkness. There was only a faint presence of Time. If a normal human was there, he would die in less than a millisecond. And there were many different possible causes.

 

“{Your twenty-five-year-old worth accumulation of fire magic was really dreadful. It’s scary just to think about it.}”

 

“See? Now, recall that freakish woman. She actually ignored the pain of the continuous flames burning, not her skin, but her internal organs and flesh and impaled me with her remaining arm. If you were to see that disfigured black and red skull trying to drag you with it to the grave even after suffering such an explosion, anyone would be traumatized.”

 

Arima quivered and Krynox’s silence only meant agreement.

 

Arima’s sigil, Natus, glowed and the void was gradually filled with new energies, particles, and matter. The colors came back and soon enough, the sky of Heaven was back, the ground reformed and nature bloomed once again.

 

Arima inhaled when he had finished and landed. He stayed there for a few minutes and pinpointed the exact location of ‘her’ death. He braced himself and cast the Fifth Forbidden Art. The crystal phoenix was invoked and an otherworldly beautiful woman appeared in front of Arima. The process was similar to Baphomet but instead of an unrefined mound, she had been revived out of shining topaz. 

 

Even Arima couldn’t explain that. ‘Is this supposed to represent her value to the world?’ He thought.

 

Her amber hair fluttered and her dark golden eyes glared at Arima. She immediately tried to use her magic, but nothing happened. She noticed that she had lost her life force but didn’t give up and summoned her transcendental weapon. Since it was stored in her soul, she still had it.

 

Arima sighed and wordlessly waved his hand. The woman’s spear was flung away before piercing the ground.

 

“Ellen Rahlena,” Arima slowly spoke and Ellen froze because of his dark and grave tone. She then waited for him to talk as she stared at him with an icy look. But then, her pupils dilated and her mouth gaped ever so slightly.

 

Arima kneeled in front of her and put his fist on the ground. “I’m sorry,” he said. Nothing else. There was no sugar coating, no excuse, no explanation, no nothing.

 

He only said two words then closed his mouth, waiting for a response.

 

Ellen decided to speak after several minutes. “…What are you apologizing for?” Her voice was clear and proud. She didn’t hide her unfriendliness.

 

“To achieve my goal, I had to kill the World’s Sage and rob his heart to be able to gain a body strong enough to face the Original Creators. So, I had to eliminate you. I also had to eliminate the Plane Guardians to make myself a place in the Spiritual Realm. And, in the process, I used a magic that brought destruction to an entire plane. I killed billions of families and races and I couldn’t retrieve their souls. I’m deeply sorry.”

 

Ellen's fists trembled. “…Will you let me take your life as compensation?”

 

Arima smiled and stood up. “No. My life doesn’t belong to me anymore. I cannot offer it to you. And I wouldn’t be arrogant enough to weigh my life over all of those I’ve destroyed. There’s no compensation to talk about.”

 

Ellen closed her eyes and spoke indifferently, “I also have no right to accept your apologies. But for now, I want you to revive the lives you killed in this Heaven. You did it for me, I guess you can for the others as well.”

 

“I’m sorry, only those I’ve confronted,” Arima said and Ellen didn’t answer. He still nodded and many small phoenixes materialized and flew off. “The angels, gods, and Guardians I killed will be resurrected. And I will once again apologize; I can’t bring back the World’s Sage since his soul was residing in his heart which I assimilated.”

 

“That’s enough,” Ellen raised her voice and he squinted. “Please leave.”

 

Arima shook his head. “I have to stay. I will restore this Plane that I destroyed then teleport every revived survivor on a random planet. I will soon make the Original Lands collapse, so you can’t remain. You will all be as weak as humans since I took your life force. Start anew and live modestly. You will realize it’s a valuable experience to drop from the top to the bottom.”

 

“…Do what you want.”

 

Arima nodded and prepared to transfer every one he resurrected when Ellen interrupted him, “Wait. What is your name?”

 

Arima froze and replied after a bit of hesitation. He bowed and put his right hand on his chest. “I am now the Kind Demon, God of Eternal Night, Arimane Reigen Blade.”

 

“I see… Before you send me away, tell me, did you achieve your goal?”

 

Arima smiled. “I did. I swear that the sacrifices here were not in vain.”

 

Ellen nodded. He observed her and snapped his fingers. She disappeared right away.

 

“{What an honorable show.}”

 

“Stop joking, Krynox.”

 

“{I’m not.}”

 

Arima snickered. “I’m not honorable.”

 

“{…}”

 

“Let’s do this already,” he sighed and a pair of draconic wings grew on his back. He wagged them and slowly flew off. His coat slowly turned into a sort of runic robe as his body expanded. Black fur grew around his neck, wrists, and ankles. Glittering black crystal scales emerged on his arms, temples, and legs.

 

His hands turned into large claws and his legs bent backward slightly like a beast. His eyes narrowed into a slit and glowed red. A faint golden and green pigment was visible around his pupils. He roared and the mane growing from the top of his skull to his tail shined purple. His wings were fully deployed and appeared to have black feathers layering the scales.

 

After he became a fifty-meter-tall demon, Arima didn’t lose his clothes. Instead, they transformed to match his appearance. The runic robe’s red fur interior accentuated its artistic value and the golden and silver patterns inscribed on the exterior were almost hypnotizing. 

 

There were metal ornaments hanging from his sleeves and waist, such as small chains and rings. But the pendant around his neck depicting the skulled six-branched cross was the most predominant one.

 

Ultimately, Arima’s appearance looked majestic even after changing into a demon. His face didn’t look intimidating but awe-inspiring. His eyes were serene and piercing but not menacing. It was the mixture of a dragon and demon. There were even two different types of horns. 

 

After his rebirth, he had ended up with only this form accessible. That was how most people saw him. A sage, powerful, and magnanimous demon. It was the very meaning behind his title. The Kind Demon.

 

Arima exhaled vapor and opened his mouth. His voice echoed and actually damaged his surroundings without him willing to.

 

“Akoman, Indra Vayu, Saurva, Aeshma, Az, Mithandruj, Taurvi and Zairicha.” 

 

He called and they came. The seven evil spirits that followed him since he inherited everything from Angra Mainyu appeared around him and bowed to him.

 

Arima nodded at them and his sigil started spinning. After a few mere seconds, he had teleported away every single living being across the five Mother Realities that were still in Heaven or Hell.

 

“You all, let’s do the biggest mass destruction the world has ever seen,” Arima cackled and the seven spirits circled around him and they all started inscribing runes on thin air.

 

They were all for an ultimate magic.

 

“[Primum Actum] (First Act).”

 

“[In fabula incipit cum tristis mundi] (The story begins when the world falter).”

“[Leges inutiles fragilis] (The Laws are useless and fragile).”

“[Vita cantare potest, ut velit ut] (Life can sing as much as it wants).”

“[Quoniam sicut non indiget ut possit mors clamate] (Death can cry as much as it needs).”

“[Acta est fabula iam coepi] (The play has already started).”

 

Arima’s voice overlapped the ethereal and dark ones of his evil spirits. With each syllable of his, a bit of the world around him disappeared into nothingness, leaving something even worse than a vacuum.

 

“[Secundum Actum] (Second Act).”

 

“[Quod in hac sola] (In this lonely existence).”

“[Elementa non opus] (Elements are not needed).”

“[Reliquis egredientur] (They will depart with the rest).”

“[Non erit ibi exitium] (There will be no destruction).”

“[Sicut inanis et nihil] (Just void and nothingness).”

 

The section of Heaven in which Arima was at the moment was already nothing more than a flickering image. Everything was already erased and what remained was barely what you could call an afterimage after an instantaneous annihilation.

 

“[Actum Tertium] (Third Act).”

 

“[Quam exprimere hunc finem?] (How to express this End?).”

“[Quo modo enim non ostendit?]   (How can we show it?).”

“[Quomodo potestis vos testimonium perhibetis abyssi deambulasti?] (How can you witness the abyss?).”

“[Nolueritis] (You won't).”

“[Nec lux et tenebræ iaculis] (Grab either your Light or your Darkness).”

“[Salvatores esse vana sunt et per] (Both are your saviors in an empty existence).”

 

Suddenly, the light, the colors, the matter, the elements, and the worldly circuits vanished. Only Arima remained with his seven followers. 

 

His sharp eyes opened wide and Natus was fully released. The circled hexagram was projected and connected to every place existing in Existence. Arima scanned them and connected his magic to the entirety of Heaven and Hell.

 

“[Nunc, quod non vestris tamquam mundo?] (Now, what does your world look like?).”

“[Id est pulchra? Autem sola est? Frigus? Hilaris?] (Is it beautiful? Is it lonely? Cold? Cheerful?).”

“[Ego te huc ad nuntium] (I'm here to give you a message).”

“[Suus 'non custodierit, suus' a damnationem] (It's not a warning, it's a sentence).”

“[Haec ultima rerum] (This is the last line of the story).”

 

“[First Destruction Art, Comoediae Mundi] (World’s Comedy).”

 

Arima oversaw everything. In every Mother Reality, a hexagram formed on the Original Lands’ surface. This was the hidden aspect of the ultimate destructive magic; a corruption, an infection, a virus. It was endless devastation.

 

Everything around the hexagrams turned into incorporeal ashes and the phenomenon was never discontinued.

 

“[Denique Sileo] (Final Restart).”

 

Everything coming into contact with something struck by the First Destruction Art would now disappear as well. Each second, a new grain of matter disappeared after infecting another one. It never ended afterward. It could infect molecules, atoms, even void and the space-time dimension itself.

 

Nothing remained.

 

***

 

Heaven and Hell were completely destroyed. They would never come back. Gods were now forced to live with mortals. Without Heaven’s support, they couldn’t get stronger with just the thoughts of mortals. They now needed to make a place for themselves in their hearts and be acknowledged by the Spiritual Realm to become genuine divinities.

 

Ultimately, gods had now fallen from their ivory tower. None of them would now toy with the lives of the lower species. They had to live among humans, rule like humans, and fight other gods as humans would do. This would bring many changes.

 

More and more mortals would start to ascend to the Heavenly Realm because of this new influence and the natural-born gods were no longer the only ones managing the world.

 

And with the disappearance of Heaven, there was nothing to give birth to legendary figures anymore which led to a new type of god to appear, the Mystical Gods.

 

All of this were predictions that a single woman made. She had a silk-like silver and black hair. Her skin was fair and soft. She was the true depiction of an angelic being. Her diamond-like eyes could see everything that happened in the future. 

 

“Layla, what’s wrong?”

 

Someone called her while she was lost in thought. She smiled and continued to supervise the construction of her mansion. She was now vowed to the strongest being in Existence and she needed to make something worthy of the title.

 

***

 

Arima sighed and his seven spirits returned inside his soul. He then reverted to his human form and looked around at the emptiness he had created. For some reason, he enjoyed it. It brought him a sense of peace. There was nothing. No time, no space, no life, no death, no corruption nor purity. 

 

Everything was neutral and it was the beauty of it.

 

Arima stayed there for hours to clear his mind. Natus’ glow then enveloped his body and he promptly departed.