In the opulent chambers of the GodKing's Master—walls adorned with tapestries woven from threads of time itself, the air humming with the subtle pulse of fate's unseen loom—the council convened. The GodKing lounged against a pillar, his armored form a bastion of quiet power, while his Master, the Keeper of Time and Fate, paced with ethereal grace. Beside them stood Shona, his five arms crossed in resolute stance, and his mother, Ta'Narsha, the Keeper of Balance, her presence a serene counterweight to the room's tension. They debated the path ahead: who to dispatch as envoys, which two souls to safeguard through the impending reset—a cosmic unraveling that would reshape realities.
Meanwhile, in the suspended veil of their time-travel vantage, Ezmelral watched the GodKing stride across the room to what appeared to be a... cup... but more like a chalice, ornate and gleaming under the temple's ethereal light. The GodKing unhooked his gourd from his belt and began to pour the strange liquid within it, the viscous fluid shimmering as it filled the vessel. He then conjured two smaller cups out of thin air with a casual wave, dividing the elixir from the chalice into them before handing one to his master and the other to Ta'Narsha.
Curiosity knitting her brow, Ezmelral asked, "What exactly is that liquid?"
Raiking replied, "It's a special elixir—one that, when drunk, removes all impurities from the body, allowing for a steadier Essence flow during training."
Ezmelral then recalled the GodKing's earlier arrogance and dismissal of the Elders—how he'd crushed them with a mere stomp, treating them like insects. Yet here, with these women, he was deferential, almost reverent. "Why is he so respectful toward them?" she asked Raiking, her voice laced with confusion. "And why take a master weaker than him? By Exar standards, a teacher must surpass the student. It doesn't make sense."
Raiking's gaze lingered on the scene below, his voice a measured rumble, like distant thunder rolling across forgotten horizons. "The GodKing's Master is the first Entity ever born— the Keeper of Time and Fate. She peers into the myriad threads of possibility, glimpsing futures yet unwoven. But some fates are immutable, decreed by the Cosmic Will itself... like the birth of Entities. She foresaw his coming—when and how he'd emerge—and was the first to greet him. The first face he saw. The first to nurture him when all others branded him a threat."
"A threat?" Ezmelral echoed, her eyes widening as she leaned closer to the ethereal barrier separating them from the past.
Raiking nodded, his crimson eyes reflecting the chamber's glow like embers in deep shadow. "Being the sole Cosmic-scale Entity is both blessing and curse. His friends, his kin—they flourished under his shield. But those perched at the pinnacle of power... they saw only an insurmountable wall. 'What if he turns wicked?' they whispered. 'What if he unravels the cosmos?' Schemes brewed—to cut him down at the root."
Ezmelral's breath caught, imagining the isolation. "But his Master... and Ta'Narsha—they stood by him?"
"Refused to let him fall," Raiking confirmed. "Though their strength pales beside some, they are closest to the Cosmic Will itself. To defy them is to defy the cosmos. The others could only seethe as he rose— a mountain piercing the heavens."
"I see," Ezmelral murmured, piecing it together. "They were there at his lowest, so naturally, he'd stand by them at his highest."
Raiking nodded, a faint shadow of understanding crossing his features.
Ezmelral watched Shona, who had remained silent throughout the tense exchange—perhaps because of his youth, or maybe something deeper held his tongue. Still, curiosity gnawed at her; a half-mortal, half-Entity was a wonder she'd never imagined. "How did he come to be?" she asked Raiking, her voice laced with awe and the lingering haze of confusion from the earlier raw display of power.
Raiking's expression stayed neutral, his crimson gaze fixed on Shona and the five arms that marked his hybrid birth. "When the GodKing ascended to the GodKing Level and forged the Garden of Eden atop Planet Eden—a sanctuary for all Entities—a few hundred years passed. Then Ta'Narsha came to him, confessing her love for a mortal man. She sought his blessing to defy the cosmic taboo."
Ezmelral's eyes widened. "And he... agreed?"
"Naturally," Raiking replied. "To repay her past kindness—the way she'd shielded him from the Elders' schemes when he was vulnerable—the GodKing bent the laws for her. Who else would dare challenge him?"
"That makes sense," Ezmelral murmured, piecing it together. But then her brow furrowed, a detail snagging like a thorn. "Wait—you just said 'ascended to GodKing Level'?"
Raiking inclined his head. "The title 'GodKing' isn't his name—it's the realm he achieved, a pinnacle no other Entity has touched. Over time, it became what they called him, a testament to his unmatched dominion."
Ezmelral's breath caught, her mind reeling at the implications. "There's a realm beyond King Level? That's... our planet's absolute peak. The strongest we know."
Raiking's gaze drifted upward, to the stars winking like distant promises. "There are many more levels beyond—realms where power bends reality itself, where mortals become myths."
Her questions bubbled up like a spring—What are they? How do you reach them?—but before she could voice them, the GodKing's voice boomed through the chamber below, cutting through the hush like thunder. "I will take on the Flood Mission personally."
Ezmelral froze, the term echoing in her memory from earlier whispers. "He... you said 'The Flood' before. What exactly is it?"
Raiking's hand settled on her shoulder once more, his touch firm and grounding. "To understand, we must see." The world blurred in a familiar rush, time folding around them as they hurtled forward—to a week later.
When they arrived on a nearby planet, Ezmelral's breath caught in her throat; she couldn't believe her eyes. Blood painted the once-lush grounds in gruesome strokes, pooling in craters where ethereal flowers had bloomed. Carnage sprawled everywhere—twisted remnants of a strange species, their forms mangled beyond recognition. Those who remained somewhat intact bore greenish-purple skin, etched with subtle scales along their arms, like armored echoes of a forgotten reptile lineage. The worse-off were strewn like discarded puppets, their bodies flickering and fading into stardust, dissolving into the void. Destruction reigned: the castle's spires cracked and toppled like fallen giants, vines charred to brittle ash, the surrounding branches weeping sap like tears from fresh, gaping wounds. Ruin enveloped it all, the air thick with the metallic reek of cosmic ichor and the acrid bite of scorched reality.
At the heart of the devastation, slumped against a half-broken pillar—its rune-etched surface splintered like fragile glass—sat the GodKing. He was drenched in blood, his armor a canvas of scarlet streaks, helmet bowed as if the weight of the stars pressed upon him. Above his palm hovered the Orb of Reincarnation—the same swirling vessel of souls Raiking had shown her weeks ago, its glow faint but persistent amid the desolation.
Suddenly, a rift tore open nearby, crackling with temporal energy like a wound in the fabric of fate. Out stepped the GodKing's master, her ethereal form gliding forward with unwavering grace. She crouched beside her disciple, producing a simple cloth from her robes, and gently wiped the blood from his helmet, her touch tender yet firm, like a mother tending a fallen child. "You were born with immense power," she said softly, her voice a soothing current in the storm's aftermath, "so you could shoulder the responsibilities others cannot bear."
She rose then, extending her hand toward him, her eyes—pools of infinite timelines—meeting his. "Do you understand?"
He stared at her offered hand for a lingering moment, hesitation flickering in his posture, the mighty conqueror reduced to a figure of quiet vulnerability. Then, with a slow exhale that seemed to release the cosmos's held breath, he clasped it. "Yes, Master," he murmured, allowing her to help him to his feet. Together, they turned and stepped into the void portal from which she'd emerged, the rift sealing behind them with a soft, final shimmer, leaving only echoes in the ruined planet.
Ezmelral stood amid the emptiness, the desolation pressing in like a physical weight, her small frame dwarfed by the scale of loss. "What... what exactly is this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes scanning the blood-soaked void where life had once flourished.
Raiking's gaze swept the ruins, his tone grave as ancient stone. "The very first Flood in history. The first planet to tip the scales too far—beyond redemption."