𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉

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Seas of dead men littered the scorched earth, unrecognisable limbs were scattered across the battlefield. A plethora of flags jutted upwards, rising above the waves of carcasses. They were decorated in a thousand different colours, representing the struggle of a thousand different kingdoms... signifying the 𝖊𝖝𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 of all nations. The smell of blood and ash filled the atmosphere, the soil underneath the multitude of corpses was stained in the crimson red of slaughtered armies. But among the lifeless graveyard, a Riftwalker hovered over the fields of death. Her white robes were pure and untainted, her milky silver eyes and porcelain skin, untouched by the shades of annihilation beneath her feet. The Angel Of Light opened her mouth to speak, "𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞, warrior, the war is coming still, the 𝑾𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝑶𝒇 𝑴𝒂𝒏 cannot fall here." Her glass white eyes dully glared down at the bloodied soldier. The man's seemingly lifeless body was painted in the gore of friend and foe alike, his armour was pierced and split apart, but his hand firmly gripped the handle of a broken sword. Without lifting his head up he spat, "There is no one left to fight your war Diviner." The phantom-like lady stood still, her expression unchanging. So much light radiated from her presence that she seemed corporeal, nearly translucent. How ironic, the Angel was untouched and completely clean of the carnage beneath her feet. The bloodbath that was created as a result of their war. But it was mankind that beared the suffering. "If the 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 successfully annex this world, the end of times would become inevitable." Her voice was cold and monotonous, devoid of sympathy and compassion. After all this they were still just ants beneath their feet, their kingdoms were just colonies for them to command as they saw fit. Yet the soldier felt no animosity towards her, their existence transcended his own to such a degree, where it would have been impossible for her to see him as equal. Instead he rested his head back against the rubble and let out a soft chuckle. "Maybe you should have given me some more Legacies then Diviner." The runes on his body flickered faintly, briefly shimmering in shades of brilliant blue. The man could feel his power slipping away from him, he wasn't just bleeding out, the source of his ability, his inverted soul was dissipating. Realising that his life essence was no longer salvageable, the Angel extended out her arm, raising her hand above his head like she was about to bless a child. Her pale white eyes glowed as she spoke, "Your Inverse is far too valuable to dissolve here." The two beings were disconnected from the environment around them as the Diviner began chanting in her God Tongue. No sound, air or any mortal element could reach them as the Angel's voice crescendoed. Light was practically pouring from every crevice of her body as she recited the spell, "[incomprehensible] ... May you return to the eternal slumber, and rest in the between." The knight had already drawn his last breath when she finished her magic. Her chalky milk eyes pierced this dimension, into the Inverse. The plane of being that simultaneously existed with the mortal realm. The two dimensions were viciously intertwined, the space in between all creation that humans could not yet fathom. Its existence could only be simplified as an alternate dimension, one that contained unimaginable sources of power that was as abundant as air on Earth. It was a perfect copy of the universe yet the opposite, it was everything and nothing, and all that was in between. It was 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞.