Against The True Gods

'Augustine…Nova…The Sinner…'

By now, Caine would be a fool not to understand something nefarious was happening around him.

This game, which he'd originally thought only involved the complicated matters of his family, had suddenly expanded to include much more.

And in turn, it had become much more dangerous.

'I see.' Caine smiled.

Standing up, he dusted his robes.

Whether it was Nova, an outer entity seeking godhood, Augustine, a noble higher existence from Samsara itself, or even the Sinner, the man that allowed him to be here—none of it mattered.

The worst anyone could do was give him time.

***

"What is going on around here?" Caine asked Enya as they walked through crowds of people that filled the streets, under the warm and brilliant rays of the sun.

Many wore what seemed to be traditional attire made of hay, their heads adorned with large masks painted white and blue with the faces of strange primordial entities.

The sound of drums and foot stomping overlapped and echoed to form an old and primal chant that all those in the streets partook in.
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Merchants walked through the crowded streets with mobile stands attached to their bodies, selling delicacies and trinkets to anyone who might be interested.

The atmosphere was one of joy, reunion, and remembrance.

"This is the Divine Cloud Festival, sir," Enya explained as she then pointed to the clouds above and continued. "You see, one of the oldest tales of the world lies in them."

"It is said that, from the depths of the void, the first gods arose, their sovereignty shattering the earth into countless pieces they'd each rule. And from the cracks in the land, from the abyss itself, the greatest god arose."

"It is said that his cry twisted the clouds, tore the heavens, and sundered the skies to birth the first pope."

"And as such, the Day of the Divine Cloud represents the day of union between the first pope and the greatest god—the day they began their crusade against the ancient, primal gods that tore the earth above the abyss."

Caine nodded and hummed in understanding upon hearing this, though his mind couldn't help but inwardly frown. 'So many pieces of history present here…yet I've never heard of any of this in the real world.'

'Has someone wiped out history?' His gaze narrowed slightly. 'Where even would the church be in the real world..?'

"So, the people take this day to celebrate, remember what they should be grateful for, and, in general, simply have fun. It's an amazing tradition, if you ask me!" Enya joyously said as she, too, put on a traditional mask, immersing herself with the crowd.

Caine chuckled, looking ahead with a smile.

But suddenly, he felt a pull at his robes.

Looking down, he saw a tiny, truly tiny figure, perhaps shorter than even a toddler, tugging at his robes.

The man's body was extremely disproportionate, his head as large as his torso and his legs chubby mounds of flesh covered in hair.

From his long, dirty gray hair, the stench that oozed from him, and the bottle in his hand that trailed the ground, he seemed homeless.

But Caine didn't focus on that. What he noticed first were his eyes—or rather, his lack of them.

It wasn't that the man simply didn't have eyes.

With his newfound mastery and understanding of the aspects, Caine could tell the man was blind because of an injury much more severe than even his own, which was maddening considering he'd been injured by an Angel of Fate.

The man's aspects had been mutated and turned into chains that tightly wrapped around his existence, warping him into the small, strange creature he was. But most importantly, Caine could see that the aspect facets of this man were…stolen.

They'd been stolen.

It was a miracle the man was still alive and a testament to the sheer power of his Will, now holding up his entire existence.

The reason Caine hadn't seen him come wasn't because he was too short but rather because the man simply hadn't allowed him to.

His gaze narrowed.

"You're a strange kid, you know?" The man's voice was rather soothing, almost angelic.

"What's your name?"

The question was simple and held no hidden intention, yet Caine felt his own True Will tremble as if something was pulling at it, forcing it to answer.

But he could tell the man wasn't doing it on purpose. The same way Caine's natural aura had suppressed Enya when they first met was the same way this man's Will demanded truth…it was natural.

"Caine." He slowly answered, his presence softening as his calm returned. "You?"

The man laughed. "Decent Will you have on you, though you'll have to remake it soon. It's not bad, but I suppose you already have plans for that, hm?"

Caine didn't react to these words, but his evaluation of the man rose just one more level.

"As for me? You can call me Old Kronos. I forgot what my full name was, not that it matters."

The man took a swig of his bottle, his mouth too small for the bottle itself as he spilled waves of liquor on his face, but he didn't seem to care.

"The more solid a thing is, the easier it ironically is to break. How solid you are doesn't matter; how elastic and malleable you are is all that matters."

"The mountains beyond are endless, forging yourself to conquer one is futile."

Caine deeply looked at the man, his emotions unreadable.

"But again, I suppose you know this, hm?" He took another swig of his bottle. "I loathe little baby snakes like you."

The man let go of Caine's robes and began to walk away, his presence fading into a fog of emerald light.

"Be careful. I'll be seeing you soon, Lerouge."

Caine didn't react to these words, his gaze returning to the horizon as he clasped his hands behind his back.

"Where did you go, sir?" Enya asked.

"Hm? What do you mean?"

Enya tilted her head. "You disappeared for a few minutes. I couldn't find you."

Before Caine could respond, screams began to echo from the distance as a tide of chaotic qi swept over the capital.