"It's been such a long time, [???]."
What the hell is going on here? He can see me, but I'm just reading his memories. It felt like he was speaking directly to me, yet I couldn't hear his voice. Then it hit me—I couldn't hear him because everything was happening in my mind, which is protected by the system. All my information and everything about me is kept private. If I wanted to hear him, I'd have to make it public.
I hesitated for a moment, but with a deep breath, I pressed the button to change my privacy settings. Suddenly, clarity flooded my senses, and I could finally hear his voice.
"I think you don't know me, but allow me to introduce myself. I am Astaroth, the God of Darkness. I know you may have some questions, but I am restricted from answering them directly. However, I assure you, you will find the answers in due time."
Okay. This was all a bit surreal, but I tried to keep my thoughts focused.
"I will be fading away in thirty seconds, so listen carefully to what I have to say. There's something important you need to know: you must fuse with the Goddess of Creation when you face the <><>. I understand you might not have caught the name properly, but this is my final piece of advice. I hope you can defeat him and change the future for the better."
As he spoke, the foggy silhouette of his form began to dissolve, the darkness around him swirling like smoke. His presence felt heavy yet calming, a paradox that sent shivers down my spine.
"After I fade away, you will witness my memories, and you will return to your own mental space. So, don't worry. Trust in your strength, and remember my words."
With that, his form dissipated completely, leaving me engulfed in a swirling vortex of shadows and lights. I felt a strange sensation pulling me into a realm I couldn't comprehend. In the next moment, I found myself nowhere to be seen; it felt dark and lonely, and I couldn't even see my own hands.
I slowly opened my eyes, and my breath caught in my throat. Before me lay a breathtaking expanse of space, a kaleidoscope of colors swirling in cosmic harmony. Stars twinkled like distant diamonds, their light shimmering against the backdrop of infinite darkness. Nebulae floated gracefully, painted in hues of purple, blue, and gold, creating a tapestry that was both mesmerizing and surreal.
Just then, I realized where I was—I was in the mind of Astaroth. I think this is when he was born, but why is it in the middle of space and not in the womb of a certain woman? Maybe the original gods were born like this, appearing out of nowhere in the vastness of space. I watched as Astaroth slowly opened his eyes, but even his black eyes looked like fog to me. Perhaps gods are born as their true element, without any physical body. That might be why he looks like this.
He stood up, his form still shrouded in darkness, and began walking slowly in a single direction through the vast emptiness of space. There was no clear path, no destination in sight, yet he moved forward with purpose. The weight of his existence seemed to pull at the fabric of the universe itself, the silence around him deep and unyielding.
Suddenly, without warning, he stumbled. His body fell, yet there was no panic, no sense of urgency. As if guided by an invisible force, he descended gently. After a few moments, he landed softly on solid ground, unharmed, without a trace of pain or injury.
I shifted my focus to the world around me, taking in the bleak landscape. The ground beneath him was barren, cracked, and lifeless. Dead trees, their gnarled branches twisted like skeletal fingers, dotted the landscape, casting long shadows on the earth. Above, the sky was a swirling mass of black clouds, heavy and oppressive, blocking out any hint of light. The air was thick, and an unsettling silence hung over everything, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder in the clouds.
Once again, he started to move, slowly rising from the ground. His steps were deliberate, yet each one seemed to carry a weight that the world itself couldn't bear. The cracks in the earth began to widen with each footfall, spreading like veins through the lifeless ground. The dead trees, already withered and skeletal, were now being consumed by the black fog that swirled around Astaroth, slowly dissolving into nothingness. Yet, he wasn't doing anything deliberately—the fog moved with him as if it were a part of him.
Despite the eerie destruction around him, Astaroth continued his silent journey, walking in a straight line, his purpose unknown to me. I couldn't understand where he was headed, but it was as if he had a clear goal in mind, one that drove him forward relentlessly. He moved with such calm certainty that I couldn't help but feel an unsettling sense of inevitability.
Anything in his path was reduced to nothing. If a boulder stood in his way, it would vanish into the fog before he even reached it. Even the towering mountains ahead crumbled effortlessly, disintegrating long before his shadow touched them. There was no force too great, no obstacle that could stand in his way. It was as though the very fabric of this world bent to his will, without him even lifting a finger.
And yet, Astaroth himself remained unaffected, walking without a hint of acknowledgment for the destruction around him, as if it were a natural part of his existence.
As he continued walking, Astaroth encountered strange creatures that resembled hollows—beasts with distorted, gaping masks and hollowed-out forms. Yet, like everything else, they too were devoured by the black fog surrounding him, disintegrating into the void without so much as a fight. What was striking, however, was the rapid growth of Astaroth's mana core. With each step, each encounter, it grew at an exponentially fast rate, pulsating with raw, untamed energy.
Two days had passed since Astaroth had fallen into this unknown world. In the beginning, he had been little more than a wisp of black fog, his form taking the shape of a small child. But now, he had changed. His body had grown, no longer that of a fragile child, but closer to a 14-year-old boy, though still cloaked in the eerie, ever-present fog. It clung to him like a second skin, shifting and swirling, as if alive with its own will.
His transformation was unsettling but undeniable. What started as a formless presence had evolved into something more tangible, and more powerful. The boy he was becoming, even at this young stage, felt like a force of nature.
Still, Astaroth walked, his gaze unwavering, as if the path he followed had always been set. Whatever his destination was, it seemed closer with every passing moment. The air grew heavier, the landscape darker, as the power within him continued to surge and expand.