Ahura 3, 6033 A.Y.N.*
"Primis*, the execution is proceeding well."
On the Primicratic* Bath of the Nova Virtus Primicracy, a mage robed in white silk full of magic runes and circles reported before the man who's nakedly sitting, legs wide apart, inside the bubbling pool of the bath. The hot steam from the water filled the room with vigor, while the flock of bare maidens turned it into a harem fit for a king. The whole bathhouse was created from marble, inlaid with gold, but this metal was in liquid form while inside a vast array of glass tubes that have seemingly caged the whole space within. The gold was constantly moving inside the corridors of the glass, flowing like an endless river of energy unto somewhere the eye couldn't see. Blue mana stones were floating all over, some for lighting purposes, some for security, and a few for the whole entertainment of the Primis.
"I hope that the Son would give up, we've already won." said the Primis in an arrogant manner. "So go back to your tower and tell that Tiberius to do what he's commanded to do, and finish off that Son of the Origin."
"Yes, Primis." replied the white-robed mage.
After the simple reply of the mage, the Primis laughed out loud. His laughter resonated throughout the bathhouse. For who wants to mourn over a fated victory? No one. None at all. Thus the Primis, out of his own volition, began to be joyful again.
Zeu 25, 6032 A.Y.N.*
"What is happening? Why is he still alive?" The old voice said.
A few months ago, the Primis was tasked by the old man that was sitting on the lonely pedestal in front of him to kill that Son of the Origin, and he failed twice already. Thus the old man was angry. The senior clothed in a poor man's linen looked very weak and frail, but the Primis knew he should never disrespect the man, as deep within those thin fingers that looked like a dying branch was a powerful force that could take everything that he held dear. Also, disrespecting the man is an extreme taboo, as the man himself was the great father of the Primis. He was the last of the many, the one who still lives to tell the tale and do what needs to be done, for the victory of the fallen and the defeat of the Supreme.
"Father I am sorry, but those temple priests couldn't really get a hold of the Son."
"I thought releasing your power on Geo could help you? Instead, you talk of this nonsense in front of me?!" The old man was angry, his voice echoed inside the hollow halls of this empty place.
"I'm sorry Father." Without a way to comfort himself the Primis took the blame and asked for his own Father's forgiveness, but no father couldn't really hold a grudge towards their own sons, right? "Alright, but Remus remember if this Fated One wins, we're all doomed. Some powerful Impressions could still get through, but a weak anomaly such as you wouldn't really get out from the fiery flames of Sheol."
"Yes, Father." Replied the Primis.
"Now go and make your father proud."
The Primis looked towards the old man with love. He then walked towards the old man, opened his arms wide open, and then embraced his father like how a lovely son should. The father reacted in the same way.
"I'll go now, father."
"Bless the new light, son." said the father.
"Bless the new light, father." replied the son.
After that simple exchange of their love, the Primis began his walk outside the study room of the former palace, out onto the Empire he made.
Ahura 3, 6033 A.Y.N.
Geo.
"That Prefect is stupid! Why does he support that prophet much?" Said one of the Pharisees.
"He's just doing his job as an official. Nothing to worry about. As long as we take charge of the crowd to push forth the execution, we're in for a life full of richness and glory. The righteous of the empire we'll be." replied the other.
On the secret room of the temple, at the center of the city. A group of priests was talking, planning, and scheming, against the prophet that has been putting a crack between the invaders and the citizens. The Prophet was becoming an icon of power for the zealots and a nuisance for the business of these elders.
"Manners, boys. Our victory is imminent." The leader of the flock interjected the division. "I for one believed, that no man has ever left that tree untouched, and that man, surely will never."
"But, what if he'll do all those miracles again? He is still a prophet I dare say." One of the Pharisees replied.
"Mamzer, do you think his frail body can still utter a miracle?"
"Well, he looks weak but please do remember that Lion Judge, my lord."
"He was a judge, and this, this man's a prophet, a carpenter at best!"
"I do hope that this death will come soon, for Nicodemus was begging for his release, in which I made a commitment to oppose."
"What did you do?"
"Nothing my lord, it was a little wager we had, with that incompetent Nicodemus."
"Mamzer, don't you fight against him! You're a plank away from eternity."
"I am sorry, my lord."
"That's alright. The mages of Allos have given me a gift that will surely keep that man on that heaven-forsaken tree. I do believe that all this unnecessary sway of the people will end this day."
Three minds, that's all there is, but they were a network of plans devious enough to cause an outbreak. While they were gritting their teeth in anger and anguish, the man they were talking about was just sitting in a cell, waiting for the unavoidable death he was meant to have. On him was a crown of thorns pierced within his very skull, painful it was, but for his cause, he was willing to give it all.
"My King, are you ready to bear the weight of that wood" a soldier clad in bronze called out to the man mockingly while pointing his hand on a log not far away. A tall one, and a heavy one clearly.
The man didn't say a thing but instead nodded, he was determined to die, today. Fear rose from the heart of the soldier, as it is when a man accepts his death that not a thing in this world could ever hold him down not even fear, for fear would be afraid before a man who've conquered the grave even before he went to it.
The execution proceeded as usual. The man with frail hands and a bloodied face, walked firmly as if he was commanding the world, to where a heavy log was placed upon. His steps emanated slaps all over the courtyard, he was deemed to die, and all knew well of that. The blood on his back acted like a battle-borne general's cape. He was a warrior.
A few hours later, the man was hanged, but nay, he didn't die yet. He was nailed upon a tree, a cursed tree breathing heavily and uttering some nonsense until that time everyone has been expecting when he left this mortal world. The world stopped. Then out of the blue, an earthquake happened. History talks of this time as the time of salvation, but for the Pharisees, who gave away the token of the Primis, to the executioner, this was something they were not expecting.
Near them were the tombstones of the previous generations, and the earthquake has opened some. Awkwardly enough, some of the dead were awoken. They stood up and stepped back in the land of the living. The Pharisees were caught off guard. They ran together with everyone, back to the walled city, back to shelter.
A lot of things happened this day, but something also happened in Allos, that those who are in Geo could never dream of.
Ahura 3, 6033 A.Y.N.
Allos.
The world of Allos is a world of floating continents. It was a place where a bright and shining sun was sustained in the center of the world while continents floated on it. Below the floating landmass were dark clouds of eternity, as not a single one has dared to explore.
On this very day, an anomaly happened. The whole space went black. The sun? It didn't give out any light. A man was walking on the edge of the sun and became the sun itself. He touched the surface of the sun but the flames were not burning him, instead, they were hugging him, knowing that this man was in control.
A key of green and blue suddenly rose from the edge of the flames. The man held it.
"Peter, this is for you. You might not see this yet." That man said, but then he looked back and saw a young man who was clothed in nothing but silk, bowing while floating in space. "Enoch, thank you."
"All's well, my Lord."
"Well, then let me jump back to that world." The man of lights replied, then he disappeared.
The sun went back to its hotness. The world revolved again. Time has rolled. Enoch was still afloat.
Remus, on the other hand, has felt that he lost something, but never realized it until an earthquake has rumbled his whole empire. Turning them back to dust.
"Son of the Origin!" He howled.