Flames

There was no earth-shattering roar, nor any surge that swept everything away.

There was not even the sound of crying.

On this dull, ordinary, uneventful evening, seemingly lived through countless times already and destined to be lived through countless times again, the first wisp of Great Evil's fire emerged from a withered, numb realization.

It was as though a chain reaction had begun...

One insignificant spark rose, stirring millions of shattered phantom lights.

In that silent, lifeless world, when the first flame of Stagnant Rot ignited within a soul, it was as though it had fallen into a powder magazine and a heap of kindling. Its inevitable spread had begun.

At first, it was faint but unceasing, then scattered points of light. Next, an invisible tide erupted, swallowing everything.

Soul after soul was engulfed, arriving at sudden understanding amid soft sighs, silence, and distant moans.

There was not even any resistance or turmoil. They simply bowed their heads as a matter of course, accepting everything that should have belonged to them all along.

And so the lighthouse wailed and shook!

Amid the gathering dusk, that fading, pale remnant of light trembled violently. Gradually, scarlet surfaced within it, until at last it became the viscous purple-black of rotted blood...

It could not even stop.

Linking the order of the Seven Cities and their inhabitants to construct the Seven Cities' Celestial Origin had always been its function and duty. Now, however, those connections and that order had become the greatest accomplice in transmitting the flames—a fuse binding every soul together.

As the weight of one insignificant soul after another fell upon the scales, piling up like mountains, the original measure was utterly overwhelmed. In that instant, raging flames had already soared into the sky from the darkness.

Endless Green Fire fell from