Anamorsia's voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere.
"This is Eclipse's End, my Overwrite. It captures your soul the moment you're within my range. In the real world, not even a second has passed but here, you'll feel every tick of torment as if you've lived it for hours."
Crimson hands rose from beneath the ocean, clawing up without a single splash. They slithered over the warriors like centipedes with fingers. Some hands wrapped around their necks, tightening slowly, pressing fingers against their windpipes even though no air existed here. Souls did not breathe, yet they felt the phantom chocking.
One of the Second Enlightenment Divines whimpered. Another thrashed, sobbing through a voice that didn't echo. The chains responded by tightening.
Then came the woman.
She was sucking on a lollipop, humming something from a long-dead childhood rhyme, wearing a soft expression that did not match the screams behind her. She tilted her head, looking at the one who had declared she'd "rather die." Her expression was that of pure delight.
The hands didn't stop. They caressed and scratched, plucked and pressed. The torment wasn't physical because these were not bodies. Even the feeling of being touched, manipulated and cradled was being remembered by the soul as real.
The woman finally cracked.
"Please… please… no more…"
"I could make you forget who you are. I could erase your name from your soul but I won't. I told you, I don't want chaos with the gods."
She stepped behind her, brushing the woman's chin lightly with one hand. There was no lewdness in her eyes, only possession. She looked at her as if she were inspecting an antique doll.
The woman flinched.
Anamorsia raised the lollipop to her own lips, sucked it once more with an audible click, then gently placed it at the warrior's mouth. She didn't force it in. She didn't have to. The warrior's lips opened on instinct. It was a subtle tug of her own soul's craving.
"Swear to me, under the name of Spheraphase that if the Mopheria Pantheon steps foot in this world before seven years are through, the Last Phalanx will die."
There was no hesitation this time.
"I… I swear. I swear it."
Anamorsia smiled as six white angel wings glistened behind her back. Her smile was small, polite and sickeningly gentle. Every step she took didn't echo, it resonated in the woman's soul. The worst part was that the closer she came, the calmer the woman felt. Anamorsia tilted her head, her hair fluttering in wind that did not exist.
"You feel it, don't you?"
The woman trembled. "Feel… what?"
"The craving."
The woman's body rejected the idea. Her mind screamed denial but something deep inside her soul hungered as if it was remembering a feeling it never wanted and now couldn't let go. Anamorsia leaned down, her voice as soft as the wind that never blew.
"You hate me, don't you?"
The woman nodded.
"Good. Hate is just love starved of satisfaction."
She touched the woman's cheek with a care so deliberate and undeserved it made bile rise in her throat. It was affection... no, twisted affection and tender in all the wrong places. Her touch moved along her chin like one would cradle a porcelain doll.
"You're not broken yet but you're fracturing. And the sound? Oh, I love the sound of breaking glass."
Then she exhaled and the woman's soul convulsed. Images flashed across her mind. Memories that weren't hers corrupted her. Feelings she'd never lived filled her chest. Her eyes watered from the confusing pull of warmth in a place that offered nothing but terror.
Anamorsia laughed lightly.
"See? I don't even need to torture your body. You'll come apart at the seams just from wanting me."
The woman whimpered.
"Eclipse's End. That's the name of my Overwrite. It binds souls in stillness, silence and want. Even gods can be trapped here so what chance did you ever have?"
Her hand brushed the woman's lips.
"Beg me not to hurt you," she said with a smile so serene it made the void itself recoil.
"I… I…"
The woman tried to speak but her own voice betrayed her. Her thoughts weren't her own anymore. The woman sobbed. Her pride was shattered. She wasn't a warrior. She was a puppet in the hands of something too beautiful and unholy to touch.
Anamorsia's wings slowly began to fold inward.
"Tell the Pantheon that if they dare set foot in Spheraphase within seven years, the Last Phalanx will die with the promise of the world you made."
She raised a finger and snapped.
The frigid wind of the snowplain hit them like a slap. Their knees gave in almost instantly. They gripped their bodies, checking if it was it real. The chains were gone but the memory clung to their soul like tar. They had met a monster that made even the divine bleed.
They were all unharmed but Anamorsia was nowhere to be seen.
---------
The snow crunched beneath her boots as Anamorsia appeared once more as she dragged the limp body of the archer by the arm, her unconscious form trailing behind her like a ruined doll. Blood marked the trail from where she had been knocked out. She tossed the woman like garbage. Her body landed in the snow ten kilometers away with a muted thud beside the others, a puff of white rising around her from the impact.
Anamorsia exhaled softly through her nose as she took a seat, crossing her legs on the snow as if the frost wasn't even touching her. She stared at the horizon where the storm clouds were parting slightly.
Most Nexuses had already made their moves by forcing the ascension of their chosen heirs to the Sixth Enlightenment long before their exile had taken place. If they were to be cast out of their thrones then at the very least, their dynasties would not falter. Survival was always calculated.
The moment Narisva refused the throne and gave it to her half brother, the power of the Dynasty promoted him to a higher Enlightenment Rank. And since his rule, he got stronger using the Islands of Inexpelcae and got to the Sixth Enlightenment.
For Dynasty Mintheris, Elyonari's twin had inherited what should have been hers, a choice made while she was still stranded in the Erna Isles, unaware. And for Richinaria… well, the one who should have had the seat was Vastarael but he too had been in the Isles. And because he wasn't there, Anamorsia had taken it.
She smiled faintly, almost bitterly as her fingers brushing the side of her face. What a gamble it had been.
"I really did buy the world seven years. The gods won't risk a promise made to Spheraphase. They can't afford to lose the Last Phalanx, even though they're not the strongest force of their Third Generation. But if they hadn't been caught off guard… I'd be dead."
There was no delusion there. She knew her limits and she didn't care for pride. If she hadn't made the first move, if her Eclipse's End hadn't activated in time, she would have been destroyed.
Seven years. That's all she could buy. Seven years, if Vastarael reached the Sixth Enlightenment at that time. She reached out her hand and caught a falling snowflake between her fingers, letting it melt against her skin.
"I really did save the world. I bought time… that's more than what most of them ever did."