A small cauldron sat perched on the edge of a polished oak desk. Within it, a bubbling green broth simmered and hissed, faint tendrils of smoke curling upwards.
The room was dimly lit, with only a few scattered candles and a single lantern hanging from a brass hook above.
Behind the desk, Claude's brow furrowed. His focus was split between the simmering concoction and a leather-bound book in his hand.
His body had largely recovered with the help of some Biomancy mages. Unlike before with Zal, this time, he was conscious when he was being healed, watching as their spells stimulated the recovery of his injured flesh and bones.
Currently, he was attempting to replicate, or perhaps even refine, the potions taught to him by Agnes.
Hiss!
With a faint murmur, the restless mixture in the cauldron began to calm, its once-turbulent surface now smooth and glistening like polished emerald glass. Satisfied, Claude turned another page of his book.
Whilst he was concocting his potion, he had thought it would be better to spend his time reading rather than simply wait. His eyes scanned the aged, slightly yellowed parchment.
The subspace still remains a largely unknown realm. Where did it come from? What is hidden within it?
No one truly knows. All we do know is that subspace is the shadow the material plane casts. As an old Assur proverb says: The brightest light will birth the darkest shadows.
Our thoughts, our will, our emotions. All of it is reflected in the dimension known as the subspace. And within the subspace, there is an apex, atop its hierarchy of horrors.
Claude's gaze lingered on the next line.
More specifically, entities standing at the top of this realm, existing as the greatest threat to the material world and the rational mind. We call them... the Old Ones.
They are the equivalent of gods, wielding unfathomable power over specific domains, driven by a violent lust for the material world.
And while few in number, their malevolence and names radiate to worlds and dimensions beyond our knowledge.
Name: Zethrax
Titles: Lord of the Unending Night, Shadowfiend, Nightstalker...
Background: Zethrax, an ancient entity of immense power, wielding dominion over shadows, corrupting the hearts of mortals with whispers from the dark. He once held sway over the Church of Nox, a cult that infiltrated the Imperial Court of the Xi Dynasty after the infamous Eunuch Revolt destabilised the empire. The Church manipulated the weakened court for decades, plunging the dynasty into a reign of terror. However, the Church's influence was shattered by a coalition of Elysium mages and loyalist forces, who eradicated the cult. All that is left of the Church are rabble dotted around Xi.
Name: Kharos
Titles: Void Lord, Arbiter of Silence
Background: Revered and feared, Kharos is tied to the downfall of Ancient Uru, one of three successor states formed after the collapse of the Usayan Kingdom. The entity's intervention fractured Uru into the rival states of Marduk and Assur. Much of what is known about Kharos was lost when the Great Library of Uru (or Sathranis, as it was once called) was burned to ash. Today, the Brotherhood of Silence worships Kharos in the shadows of Assur and, to a lesser extent, Marduk.
Name: [???]
Title: Prince of Sin
Background: No mortal records detail this entity's origins, purpose, or dominion. Unlike the others, it is worshipped by no known cults, and its influence on Arta is barely detectable. Some say it is the spectre of temptation that corrupts rulers in their dreams, while others claim it exists outside time, a shadow waiting for the perfect moment to step into the world. The sheer lack of evidence regarding its existence has given it a reputation far more terrifying than its peers—a horror that thrives in the absence of understanding.
Name: [???]
Titles: The Afflicter, The Eternal One, Bringer of Plague and Disasters
Background: Little is understood of this being, save for its connection to The Cataclysm. The Plague Bearers, a fanatical order entrenched in Francia, claim it to be their divine master. They whisper that it unleashed the blight that summoned forth The Cataclysm, destroying the Usayan Empire established by Kourosh. Some describe it as a being whose touch brings decay and whose will reshapes the world into a living nightmare.
Warning: Speaking or writing these names outside the premises of Elysium is forbidden. High possibility of attracting THEIR attention.
Claude's eyes lingered on the words as they resonated in his mind. The Cataclysm. The phrase brought to memory the texts he had read in Littourbourg. "Is that not when something was summoned to Arta? The event that initiated the Missing Millenium?"
He exhaled slowly, his free hand tapping a steady rhythm on the desk, his mind lost in a mire of thoughts.
In that previous world, when he had read that name... Why did he not attract His attention? Or had he?
And, that eye he had seen in Littourborg… was that the same thing that had brought forth The Cataclysm? The Afflicter?
The question gnawed at the edges of Claude's mind.
And, most troubling of all…
Why did I see that?
His thoughts circled back to Littourbourg once again, to the moment he had gazed into the rift and locked eyes with that vast, ancient, and unknowable entity. The memory was burned into his consciousness like an indelible scar.
The hand that had been tapping the desk fell still, the faint rhythm fading into the oppressive silence of the room. Only the sound of his own breathing broke the stillness.
When he had looked into that eye, he hadn't just seen the abyss. He had seen… himself.
More specifically, his life.
Fragments of it, scattered like shards of a shattered mirror. Different versions of himself walking paths he had never known.
He saw himself as a child, slain during the attack on his village. Another version, where the attack never came, and his life remained unscarred by tragedy. Yet another, where he never became a mage but followed Raymond's referral to the Royal Academy of Francia, only to rise through its ranks and join Elysium as an associate professor.
And more...
He saw himself living through joys and sorrows, struggles and triumphs. He saw himself falling in love, marrying, and raising children. Watching friends grow old, and family die. He saw himself victorious, broken, fulfilled, grieving—and always, at the end of each life, he saw himself die.
Over and over again. A thousand cycles of life and death played out before him, like eternal samsara, the endless cycle whispered in the Xi Dynasty.
Yet, instead of despair, he felt something else stir deep within. Not fear, nor hopelessness—but defiance. His hands gripped the edge of the desk before him.
This vision of endless mortality did not terrify him. It only ignited a resolve within him to transcend it. To break free of this endless loop, to overcome it.
To overcome Him.
After all, what could frighten someone who had already witnessed eternity?
His lips pressed into a thin line as the thought crystallized in his mind.
Then—
Knock-Knock!
"Claude, are you in there?"
The familiar, muffled voice startled him out of his reverie. His head snapped toward the door, and for a brief moment, he remained frozen, before he was brought back to reality
He exhaled slowly, his grip loosening on the edge of the desk. "Just a moment," he called back.