The skies were stained with the blood of the innocent, screams erupted from all who were unfortunate enough to witness this nightmare.
The skies opened up, a portal emerging from the distortions of space. It allowed the highest number of fallen ever recorded to pass through, and earned the rank magnitude 5. Otherwise known as "The Festival of Blood", sixteen fallen came through, laying waste to the Badlands.
The collection of nations and landmasses that refused the proposal of absorption into the three suggested empires. But who could blame them, it hadn't even been a year since the end of the world. An act of defiance against the newly established governments, as well as Diablo's Cult.
However, the "Badlands" weren't as terrible as the civilized world believed. In fact, it was from these very lands that a miracle great enough to subdue the wrath of God was born.
The sun hung high in a sky of faded color, casting its golden light over a land marred by desolation. Vines crept over the skeletal remains of concrete structures, and the wind whispered through the hollow shells of cars left to rust in eternal silence. In this abandoned corner of the world, life clung tenaciously, and in the heart of this quiet ruin stood a home.
The house was crafted from salvaged wood and stone, its walls reinforced by careful hands. It was well cared for by its occupants, adorned with touches of beauty. A hanging wind chime made of glass fragments caught the sunlight in fractured rainbows, right over a patch of wildflowers painstakingly grown from barren earth. Store houses, and shutters painted a deep, vibrant blue, in stark contrast to the grays and browns of the wasted landscape. It was not lavish, but it was enough. It was theirs.
Inside, the air was warm, filled with the faint smell of herbs drying in bunches above the windows. The husband, Nathaniel, stood near the window, sharpening a crude blade. His dark hair fell in untamed waves around his sharp features, and his hands bore scars of the countless days spent scavenging and rebuilding. His eyes flickered toward the garden outside, where his wife, Elara, moved with deliberate grace, her belly round with the child they both awaited.
Elara knelt carefully beside a patch of leafy greens, brushing away the dust that the wind had blown across them. Around her neck was a rosary, its surface gleaming like the day it was made. Her once pristine faith had been shattered after the death of the almighty, despite that she held a quiet reverence for his grace. The sunlight caught her black hair, turning it to liquid ink as she tilted her face to the sky. For a fleeting moment, her lips moved silently; a prayer, perhaps, or the memory of one.
The door creaked as Nathaniel stepped out, the sound startling a bird perched on the fence. He carried a small wooden bucket filled with water, its surface rippling as he approached.
"You shouldn't overdo it." He said, his voice rough, but not unkind.
Elara turned, a faint smile gracing her lips.
"The garden doesn't wait for me to rest." She replied, accepting the water and pouring it carefully over the parched soil.
The plants seemed to drink it eagerly, their leaves trembling as though grateful for her care. Nathaniel leaned against the fence, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. It was quiet now, but that peace was always fleeting. Every outing for supplies was a gamble, every night a test of their makeshift defenses against whatever prowled in the dark. He had seen what desperation did to people, how survival twisted kindness into cruelty. But here, in this sanctuary they had built, he allowed himself to hope, if only a little, for a better future.
Inside, the small home was a study. A worn table sat in the center of the room, adorned with a single vase holding a withered flower. Opposing it on a wall, hung the map of the old world. Its corners pinned with notes of places long gone or destinations yet unreachable. A hearth crackled faintly below it, giving warmth all times of day, and near the window, a cradle Nathaniel had built stood ready.
"She'll be here soon." Ella said softly, as she joined him inside, her hand resting on her stomach.
Her voice was filled with awe, as the idea of bringing new life to the world was almost alien, after all she had seen.
Nathaniel delayed in his reply, instead wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as they stood alone in their home. His other hand brushing the edge of the cradle.
"She'll be safe here." He said at last, his voice carrying the weight of a promise he intended to keep no matter the cost.
As the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of amber and crimson, as the two went on with their day. Nathaniel repaired their tools while Elara cooked them a meal from forged roots and dried meat. They spoke about the repairs needed for the roof, the chances of finding medicine in their next outing, and plans for their daughters future.
And how did they know the child would be a girl? They didn't, they simply went off of the gut feeling Elara had.
A few weeks had passed since then, and she was born. With eyes red as blood, and a full head of silver hair, she looked like a fairy tale in the making.
Two years went by, and it was around the time of her second birthday. Nathaniel had been hard at work for the last few days. Getting the highest quality produce and meat from the farm, making sure his queen wouldn't have to lift a finger for the celebration.
"Finally." He said, exhaustively as he wiped the sweat of his face.
"Oh my, it seems like setting up these farms was actually a good idea." Elara emphasized with a smug look on her face.
Sigh
"Fine, I admit it. This is way better than foraging and hunting." He conceded in defeat.
"Mhm, and don't you forget it."
She proclaimed, arms crossed and chin up, before bursting with laughter. She jumped on him, and they tumbled to the ground covered in dirt, and proceeded to laugh even more.
At that time, the cries of a baby echoed through the plains, stopping them in their tracks.
"I think that means I'm needed." Elara teased.
She got up, and dusted herself off.
"And you need to get back to work, dinner won't cook itself." She added with a deviously innocent smile.
"Oh… right." His enthusiasm was suddenly sapped away.
As she went to attend to Nikko a daunting sensation passed through the air, as if space itself quivered. The sun was covered, while the earth quaked as the heavens split open.
"W-What?" She couldn't comprehend the scene before her eyes.
Suddenly the cross which she carried round her neck cracked, shattering into a thousand pieces.
The birds took flight, while the wildlife scattered in great numbers. A crimson hue encapsulated the entire land, and in the skies opened a gate to hell.
Out of it came a fallen, his once divine armor now clad in an inky darkness. His eyes which shone like the sun's rays, now emitted a neon hue. He was an entity truly worthy of his title, an angel fallen from grace, and taken by the dark.
One by one, more and more came out of the portal, each bearing a divine weapon of their liking. Their armor twisted in response to the darkness held within, their grins were sharp as glass for they couldn't contain the delight they felt.
Speaking in tongues unknown, their conversations hidden from the prying ears of man, masked in divine tongue.
"Alright then, let's make haste and carry out the request." One concluded.
"I still don't like the idea of entertaining this mortals request… It is beneath us."
"And yet, it was his offering that granted us passage. I rather not waste an entire litre of dragon blood, so it's a good thing he's going to reimburse our supplies." Another emphasized.
"Well it is the only thing potent enough to open the portal, a rare delicacy indeed; lest you would prefer we beseech our lord to bleed every time we wish to entertain ourselves in this realm."
The group erupted in hysterical laughter, their voices like shattering glass.
"Such an insolent, and audacious request would warrant torment unheard off." Another spoke out in truth.
"But still, that man intrigues me." One mused.
"Indeed, Chun Jin-Ho he calls himself in this era." One remarked.
"I have never seen a creature so drenched in sin, yet cloaked in the guise of a man. The Devil himself… that's what he is."
Something which all who had ever met him could agree on.
"True. He is a peculiar entity; an aberration even among mortals."
Shortly following this they split apart, going to their own separate corners of the Badlands.
One stayed behind, deciding to start with this area. He looked around, only to see a patch of the wasteland had been revitalized.
"A sanctuary? In this wasteland?"
Descending to the earth, he looked on and saw a single individual, a man with raven black hair and deep red eyes.
"#***##*#*#" The fallen spoke out gibberish to the man.
Nathaniel's eyes narrowed, a dark cloud settling over his features. He picked up a cutlass nearby, and walked towards the demon.
"I don't know who or what you are, but I will not die in cowardice."
Trying his best to draw the angels attention away from his home, he could only hope that it wouldn't notice Elara or Nikko.
"Oh right, you speak a variation of the Adamic tongue."
Then he grinned in delight, drawing forth his blade.
"Alright then, I suppose I shall grant you a warriors death."
Both had weapon in hand, facing off with neither side harboring doubt.
Elara was hidden within a secret room in one of the sheds, holding onto the babies mouth, covering her cries for dear life. While she too, held back her tears, whimpering in an abstract state of unending despair.
"Then how about a wager mortal? If you manage to inflict damage on me, even if it is but a mere cut, I shall let your family go."
Nathaniel's eyes glimmered for a brief moment, the light of hope had been rejuvenated within them alongside his conviction that was ever strong.
Blades were drawn, and they rushed towards each other. The warriors clashed for but only a moment, and at first glance the battle was done. They crossed paths and were now opposite to where they initially stood.
"Well that's too b-" He stopped as a searing sensation erupted from his chest.
The fallen looked down in horror to see that the cutlass had sliced through his armor like butter, and managed to leave a lasting wound. It was then that he looked at the man he had just clashed with, and his eyes widened in horror.
Nathaniel stood there, as a stream of violet energy erupted from his being. It was then that he noticed, there was a strange symbol tattooed on his wrist, and on the back of his left arm a silver circle, adorned with runes and patterns.
"You're…"
Nathaniel's aura burst to life, his eyes glowing with a hue similar to those of death itself.
"I believe you'll make good on your promise."
The angel suddenly fell to its knees, as cracks stemmed from the cut all through his body.
"I'm fragmenting? Me? Impossible!"
Nathaniel couldn't maintain this power for too long though. He had given up the ability to use demon Qi, alongside all the power he had gained during his time serving the Cult; all for an attack that could kill any god.
And so, he soon dropped to one knee, completely exhausted.
"My my, you really are useless aren't you Liziel?" Came a voice from above.
Both warriors turned their heads to see another fallen. Its tattered wings trailing shadows like smoke, and its eyes burning with disgust. Its armor was more jagged than the rest, and in its hands it gripped a halberd as tall as Nathaniel himself.
'How long has he been here?' The angel's mind scrambled for an answer, but was interrupted.
With a haunting shriek, the weapon propelled forward.
Nathaniel was far to slow, and the halberd pierced him from above, driving down through his back with brutal force. The sound was sickening, a wet crunch as metal tore through muscle, bone, and flesh. He gasped, blood erupting from his mouth in crimson spray, staining the cracked stone beneath him.
His vision blurred, pain consuming every fibre of his being. Breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps as his fingers clawed towards the shed. His only concern being what would become of them.
The fallen bore a cold and disdainful expression as it descended.
"How could you lose to a mortal?!" The Archfallen yelled furiously.
"I'm sorry for my incompetence, Lord Nyx."
Lord Nyx, one of the two fallen angels to rise to the position of Archfallen, having might that equaled the Archangels. Granting him the glory of guarding Lord Diablo.
He looked down upon the pitiful excuse for a warrior, before deciding on a proper punishment.
Nathaniel tried to speak, but only a strangled gasp. His strength waned, the warmth of his own blood pooling beneath him, seeping into the cracks of the floor. The angel twisted the weapon cruelly, producing a guttural scream that echoed throughout the lands.
Elara heard this, and couldn't barely stop herself from collapsing. She fell to floor, holding Nikko tightly as the dam within her mind shattered. She sobbed uncontrollably, tears flowing down her face endlessly.
For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. An unnatural silence filled the air. The broken man beneath the halberd groaned, his body trembling as life began to fade. Nyx ripped the halberd free with a sickening sound, and Nathaniel collapsed face first into the blood stained floor.
He said nothing, the fire in his eyes simply surveying the lifeless form. He stepped over the body, the halberd dripping crimson as he stood before Liziel.
"This shall be your burden, every 3 cycles, you shall return to the Earth henceforth and massacre the masses as an eternal reminder. A reminder that the lives of these inferior beings which you so easily squash; one of them was able to leave you at deaths door."
He then plunged the halberd into the ground.
"This shall be your weapon from henceforth, stained with the blood of the one who bested you. Understood?" This wasn't a request that one could deny.
Then he walked over towards the shed, breaking it open, and staring down on the grieving woman and her child.
Elara looked up at him, tears still flowing from her eyes, but somehow they were still able to harbor a burning hatred within them. He bent down, whispering something in her ear, before retracting.
"Your wager was that his family be spared right?" Nyx enquired.
"Yes, Lord."
"Very well." He spoke, as he disappeared into the darkness.
His body scattering into plumes of smoke, moving in all directions.
Following that, Liziel took one last glance at the body before taking his leave. Then the baby was finally free to cry as it wished, being left behind in the broken shed.
Elara stumbled forward then, her legs weak, her breaths ragged.
"Nathaniel... No, no, pleas no…" Her voice cracked as she fell to her knees beside him, her hands hovering over his broken form, as if touching him might hurt him more.
His blood soaked her hands as she finally cradled his face, still warm but lifeless. The sight of his pale features drove a wail of anguish from her chest.
She pressed her head to his, whispering through her sobs.
"I'm sorry; I should have been stronger… I should have done something... Please come back…"
But all she could hear were her own wails, his body remained unmoving. The reality of his death crushed her, leaving her trembling amidst the ruins of what had once been their hope.
And that was the moment she understood; that this was the consequence of defiance in a world with no God.
Then the words of the angel rung in her mind.
"God is not dead. It is merely a title, one that shall, or perhaps already has been claimed by another."
Nyx was about to outstretch his arm, ready to wipe away the dust before him. But before he could act, a chilling sensation gripped him. It was unlike anything he had ever known, a weight, vast and crushing, with pressure that threatened his very existence..
"If you do not value your existence." a voice rumbled, deeper than the void itself, "Then proceed."
The presence before him wasn't malicious or malevolent, no, it was a vortex of pure dread. An entity whose very existence brought about untold despair unto the angel.
"What… are you?" Nyx's voice trembled, barely a whisper.
"I am nothingness." It replied, each word reverberating with primordial essence.
"The nothingness which cradles and enshrouds all of infinite creation."
Nyx instantly understood, that the gap in power between them was so wide it surpassed the concept of numbers. Without hesitation he recoiled, withdrawing from the spot, he made haste in his departure…
The sun began to set, and as night came so did the terror of the fallen beseech the rest of the lands. Thus is the story of Nikko's birth.