Terror—that was everything here.
—!?
An indescribable chill swept through, as though the whole body were freezing and about to shatter.
Where… was this?
In the darkness, a boy wearing an oversized checkered cap curled up like a child. His colorful eyes bore the symbols of squares and spades. Dressed in a pink jacket and blue shorts, his brows were furrowed.
On his androgynous, delicate face flickered confusion, remembrance, anger, fear… as though he were immersed in a dream—a dream of birth, from nothing into being.
"Weakling."
"Are you truly a god?"
"The last Old Deus… Tet…"
A cold, arrogant voice echoed in his mind.
His name was Tet.
The God of Games, the sole Old Deus who had ruled the world of Disboard for six thousand years since the end of the Great War, establishing the Ten Covenants to bind the world.
This voice pierced mercilessly into the flaw he had buried deepest—his weakness!
Tet could feel his thoughts slipping out of his control.
Even with his five senses dulled after having his most important treasure—the symbol of the One True God—wrenched away, he could not resist the fear brought by this so-called God-Emperor, the Goddess of Finalty, the Will of Honkai. His teeth chattered from the tremors.
Tap, tap, tap—
Clear, rhythmic footsteps echoed through the boundless dark, like waves crashing against cliffs.
Each beat struck his nerves, followed by searing pain, thousands of blades ripping into his godly essence. He curled tighter, trembling helplessly.
His mind, his structure, his faith, his godly core—his everything was laid bare, as if stripped naked and pinned open like a specimen.
His muddled mind could not even transmit proper commands to his powerless body.
"Six thousand years of war… Humanity truly is weak. Riku Dola, with nothing but feeble strength, tilted the balance of that war… yet the final fruit of victory could only fall into your hands."
"Picking up scraps, sitting back and reaping the spoils—isn't that all it was?"
"How enviable… your luck."
The cool, detached female voice drifted in the darkness. Tet knew—she was prying into his past, analyzing his being.
No lamp was needed. Her very presence was light, dissolving the dark between her and the Old Deus.
The next moment, a rumbling crash.
Splrch—!
A violent impact struck his abdomen, sending his body flying backward.
"Ugh…!"
The Old Deus' frail frame slammed onto the black surface, ripples spreading across the transparent waterscape beneath.
In that instant, he regained fleeting control over his thoughts and body. His five senses returned. He realized how unsightly he looked, sprawled and broken.
The next moment, unbearable pain engulfed him.
In the flickering haze of his vision, Tet saw it—his chest and abdomen were pierced through by a long spear of obsidian laced with platinum patterns, nailing him to the void.
He… was impaled.
Breath failed him, balance crumbled, his legs gave way.
He knew full well what awaited a powerless Old Deus before such a savage and tyrannical god.
And sadly… even knowing it, without the Suniaster, Tet had lost all means of mutual destruction.
Unless, by miracle, his assailant suddenly decided to gamble everything on a game with him.
But…
As his dimming gaze traced the light back to its source, even his thoughts froze.
A violet-crimson shadow, burning, eroding space-time, exuded silent pressure. It was something that did not belong to this world—a god from beyond.
The cold sun hung high above.
Selene, clad in platinum regalia, stood lightly upon the threshold of collapsing space. In her fingers twirled a crystal radiating the brilliance of the galaxy, its glow flickering under the sunlight, dazzling and enthralling.
It was a multifaceted crystal—known as the Suniaster!
A conceptual artifact capable of granting its wielder supreme power.
The one who possessed the Suniaster would claim the title of the One True God, standing above the sixteen races, and gain the absolute authority to command and reshape the entire world of Disboard.
It bore the power to erase the world at will and recreate it anew.
For this reason, pursuit of the Suniaster was the root cause behind the Old Deus' Great War six thousand years ago.
It was designed to appear only when the strongest power revealed itself.
Thus, the Old Deus believed that only by killing one another could the Suniaster manifest, and the surviving god would obtain it.
The story of Tet's birth, the manifestation of the Suniaster, the dying wish of Riku Dola, and the weakest Old Deus' eventual claim of the artifact all validated this belief.
"Why?"
Disgust flashed clearly in Tet's eyes.
"Do you hate so much a world without war, a world without death?"
From Selene, he sensed the same aura as Artosh, the God of War.
An Old Deus that fed upon hatred, battle, malice, and blood.
During the Great War, Artosh was among the most powerful Old Deus, hailed as the War God, creator of the Flügel, one of the god-killing weapons.
And now, what difference was there between the pale steel tide ravaging the earth and the Great War six thousand years ago?
It was nothing more than the beginning of another cycle.
In truth, during the coronation gambling games for Elkia's next monarch, it was only at the moment Raiden Mei made her move that Tet resolved to use the Suniaster's power to erase these outsiders who dared wield violence beyond the Ten Covenants' restraints.
Because summoning magic was not itself an offensive art, in magical nations such as the elves, summoning creatures from other worlds was not uncommon.
In other words, the ease with which Raiden Mei and the infiltrators entered was not because the Suniaster lacked dominion over the world, but because its wielder—Tet—was simply too stupid…
Without the Suniaster, he was nothing!
Even elves or dwarves might claim the glory of slaying a god upon him.
Since summoning magic existed, Tet had long ignored Disboard's porous borders, so long as none broke the Ten Covenants.
After all, even he often traveled to other worlds to play and amuse himself.
The Suniaster made him, and the Suniaster broke him.
Overreliance upon the artifact reduced him, for its power was never truly his own.
Without fusion, Selene forcibly subdued Tet and tore the Suniaster from him—devouring it whole.
"Why ask what you already know, Tet?" Selene smiled faintly at his protest.
"As one of our kind, you understand."
Indeed, in some ways, Selene resembled him.
But compared to her, Tet had gone further into indolence and complacency.
He was unfit to sit upon the throne of the One True God.
Had Artosh the War God won the Great War and claimed the Suniaster instead… imagine it. Six thousand years of growth, an army of Flügel in full scale…
Horus and his Luna Wolves would not have had it so easy. A prolonged war of attrition would have been inevitable.
"Riku Dola schemed, guiding conflicts among the races, sacrificing countless lives for humanity's future glory. And in the end…"
Selene, now privy to the detailed memories of the Great War, already knew the truth.
"Ha… six thousand years have passed, and humanity remains in absolute weakness. Slaves beneath pigs and dogs, with nothing but the word 'race' tacked on. Is that what you call admiration?"
Her words had barely finished when—shhk!
Another Subspace Lance tore through the void, piercing Tet's chest!
"Your birth was born of the faith of Riku Dola and the Ex-Machina Schwi Dola. It was humanity's wish that placed you upon that throne… Yet to humanity, you showed no favoritism, only absolute fairness."
Selene's scarlet eyes gleamed coldly as she spoke. "How laughable… That kind of fairness is the greatest injustice."
"You think the other fifteen sentient races would thank you?"
"No, they hate you. To see mere ants—creatures they could crush with a finger—stand as equals, while being bound to grant them equal treatment under your Covenants… that is humiliation."
"In the end, this world you named 'Disboard' was nothing more than your personal garden, a prank of your own making."
"The strong weakened, the weak grew weaker. A stagnant, sealed-off world—utterly rotten."
Selene looked down at Tet with disdain.
Yes, Selene too intended to enslave this world. She was no nobler—her motives perhaps even baser and more selfish. Yet it did not stop her from scorning the so-called 'Game Order.'
Game Order? In my Empire, if one dares shirk labor, I'll throw them onto the fiercest battlefield as fodder.
As for Tet, she truly held him in contempt.
After the war ended, he did nothing but play—whether in Disboard or wandering other worlds—for thousands of dull, meaningless years.
Always playing!
What use was there being the One True God?
Even I… ahem. Even I, Selene, only idle when I choose. Most of the time, I am a diligent sovereign, guiding my Empire's path with sleepless devotion.
"Fall into eternal slumber."
"From this moment, the Ten Covenants are abolished!"
Snap!
At Selene's finger snap, violet-red light spread beneath her feet. The void writhed ominously, as Honkai energy tendrils surged upward like octopus limbs.
Twisting, squeezing, churning…
Crack!
A crisp bone-breaking snap.
Tet's arm shriveled like dry wood, its energy drained away, before shattering under the crushing grip of the Honkai thorns.
His divine essence was being stripped away?
In his dimming consciousness, unable to speak—his godly essence severed into dormancy—Tet could only endure the waves of helplessness.
Until his thoughts ceased, plunging fully into darkness.
Crunch… crunch…
The horrifying sound of chewing.
"Flügel, Ex-Machina, Dragonia, Gigant… Mmhm, looks like my collection will grow nicely."
...
Elkia Kingdom, Royal Castle.
Something caught Fiel Nilvalen's fading consciousness as she slipped toward the dark.
The Suniaster changing hands, the fall of the God of Games—she knew a new order was arriving. The Empire.
And its master was no different from Artosh the War God—one who glorified violence and battle.
Horrible…
The very kind the elves despised most. But she had no choice…
...
Eastern Union Embassy in Elkia.
The roar of wheels thundered closer, heavy tank destroyers racing toward the embassy district, their cannons aimed high and menacing.
Rumble…!
"Wahh! What's happening? When were the Ten Covenants abolished?!"
In a corner, a frail fox-eared girl in a vivid kimono clutched her ears, struggling against the sudden gunfire that shook the air. Her violet-red eyes brimmed with panic, her blue-purple hair trembling.
The change was too sudden—her mind had yet to catch up.
"Izuna-sama, look o—"
Splatter!
Blood, brain matter, and flesh painted the corridor walls. The hulking tiger beastman collapsed headless, his corpse thudding heavily to the ground.
The stench of blood mixed with beast musk choked the air.
"Attack! Crush these alien scum! Show them the Empire's iron fist!"
An auxiliary officer, enraged at the audacity of nonhumans establishing privileged embassies in human lands, bellowed from his tank hatch.
...
Elkia National Library.
Within the solemn shelves, light flared as the outside rumbled. Golden eyes glowing with spirit energy stared out the window. The roar of war, the stench of blood—her long-suppressed battle lust boiled.
"The Covenants are gone… My power… has returned?"
...
Sky City—Avant Heim.
Dragon lairs.
The Gigants' realm.
...
Almost simultaneously, the dormant might of the fifteen sentient races began to stir. The Spirit Corridors, long stagnant, blazed anew.
The power that had once scarred the planet to exhaustion, driving the races into mutual slaughter—
From this moment, revived!
—
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