Read before proceeding!
Third-person narration, with occasional first-person divine narration.
An original character appears as the Outer Deity, the "Monarch of Decay."
He is a fake fellow countryman and a genuine Outer Deity. Remember: an Outer Deity. Do not treat him as a survivor of the old era, and do not treat him as human.
He and Roselle have sordid dealings between Mythical Creatures.
Roselle's characterization leans toward the emperor and consul, rather than Huang Tao.
Some parts of the original plot will undergo major changes, but I won't give examples here to avoid spoilers. If you can't accept that, please leave. Please don't argue.
Plot-driven, goofy, not a power fantasy, happy ending. (Probably?)
If you're fine with all of that, then-
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0
I admit that my skill at playing human was hardly exquisite, but I slipped safely inside the Oldest One's barrier while they could only watch helplessly from outside.
1
Before I landed on the ground, I drifted through the sea of stars on a journey that should have had no end. Like every Great Old Dominator, I fought over sefirah, obeying the instinct for convergence. When we crossed paths, we did everything we could to tear each other apart and devour one another, or fought as equals and retreated covered in wounds, all while remaining wary of the hungry stares of others of our kind. This was simply how normal Outer Deities existed. Those who could not adapt had long since become meals for other gods, their remains drifting between planets. War and slaughter were the never-ending spectacles of outer space, and the only amusement Great Old Dominators had.
The universe was chaotic and eternal. Any Outer Deity harboring emotions they should not possess would be eliminated in the shortest possible time. Even creatures that believed most fervently in survival of the strongest had to feel fear before this pitch-black world. Until one day-until that day, when the instinct for convergence brought me and others of my kind to a blue planet. Somewhere in the universe, a cataclysmic collapse occurred. Its aftershocks tore away and stole my sefirah.
When I finally reached the scene after my long journey, I discovered two chaotic Pillars beating each other behind the barrier. One of those embroiled in the battle with us was called the Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings. Bugs and Fooling flew together, corruption and murmurs blended into one, and the light of a supernova explosion briefly illuminated even the sun of this stellar system, which had gone dark long ago.
Then I lost it. Half my sefirah was forcibly torn away, and after that instant of light, the detestable Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings died. He came quickly and died just as quickly, but he had to die inside the barrier, falling onto the western continent along with the pathways and sefirah he had torn from us.
...The sea of flowers (sefirah) I had so carefully protected split apart.
Thanks to my authority's keen sensitivity to "falling," I withdrew at the right moment, preserving the remaining half of my sefirah, as well as my precarious status as a Great Old One and my life. Afterward, those of my kind driven mad by their devastating losses crowded around the barrier, cursing and condemning without rest, day or night, freely venting their hatred. They were even more enthusiastic about it than slaughtering one another, as though they had found a new form of entertainment.
2
Apart from my shattered limbs and the Uniqueness I had nearly been beaten into coughing up, I had not come away entirely empty-handed. Among the countless hands of mine severed within his Kingdom of God and sefirah, one successfully snatched something back. It was some obscure language and knowledge from a civilization that no longer existed, along with a glowing cocoon containing the soul of a carbon-based organism. I ate them and tossed these specks of dust into a corner of my thoughts I might not glance at even once in ten thousand years.
Then I joined the others watching the creatures inside the barrier. I watched them develop on their own, recuperate and multiply, and slaughter one another, yet never produce a true civilization. After a long time, the Sun rose. Ignorance and cruelty melted like ice and snow beneath its light, and the earliest codes of law and etiquette reappeared on this land from a bygone era. Looking at this Sun, both false and real, whom none of the Outer Deities present could defeat, I sank briefly into deep thought.
Reclaiming my sefirah required entering Earth.
I could not break the barrier.
And entering Earth would inevitably get me discovered.
Being discovered meant facing this Sun.
I would die. (Certain.)
That won't do, I thought. Time meant nothing to the universe or the creatures wandering through it, and so another very, very long time passed.
Look, look. The gods laughed and cheered, celebrating the fall of God Almighty. I did not understand what there was to celebrate for those barred outside the barrier. But yes, the Sun fell, tumbling into the dust. This was my favorite spectacle. I also saw the winds and waves swell, a blazing pale source of light rise into the sky, and a White Tower soar from the ground into the clouds. What the Sun lost was taken by new gods. Nothing changed.
The Sun had indeed fallen, but a Pillar did not die so easily.
Just as dynasties changed and the moon rose when the sun set, returning to the heavens after a fall was an honor reserved for the Sun alone. I could not deny that, at that moment, I did consider taking advantage of the opening. But the three new gods born from that feast were not mere decorations. Caution prevailed, and I did not act.
Eventually, I came up with an idea. I rummaged through the vast ocean of my thoughts, piecing together again the information contained in the soul I had thoroughly digested. Then I fashioned it into a tool belonging to me alone, filled it with memories, and left my will and mark within it, but gave it no soul. After countless failures, I successfully slipped it inside during a lull when the barrier weakened. Then, with a trace of amusement, I watched this device follow the route I had set for it: being born as a human, growing up, struggling to survive by instinct in that era, and then, one day, encountering my adjacent pathway, "Devil," just as I had designed.
The time had come. I keenly sensed the critical moment. With the swiftest possible movements, I activated the mark within the device, put my true body into a light slumber of hazy consciousness, and awakened my will inside this far too fragile and insignificant body. I sealed the single-pathway Sequence 0 power I had brought down, then operated this human body to eat that Devil.
The device... no, it should now have been called "me."
I donned the skin of the human I had eaten, used his name, and took his identity and face. I filled my thoughts with the madness of a Great Old One and my flesh with the power of a Devil. Thus, I became a Sequence 3 "Blatherer" of the Abyss Pathway. And I was very lucky: even then, none of the gods already on this planet had discovered me.
It was a good era, the end of an epoch. Four emperors fell in succession, and the breath of death swept across the land. The gods were busy slaughtering one another; no one would notice that I had quietly descended. Thinking of the Devils who still dared to appear openly upon the earth, my emotional senses brimmed with satisfaction and mocking delight. I was ravenous.
3
While devouring Devils, I also established a faction on the side. Its name was simple: the "Devil Faction." Believers were unimportant, and anchors even less so. I established it only because I needed to plant the impression that "I am someone from the Devil Pathway" in the gods' minds as quickly as possible. Granted, no god had noticed me, but what if one suddenly discovered me someday? So I allowed my faction to commit atrocity after atrocity without restraint in my name. After all, even gods and Angels were running rampant across the land at the time. Compared to them, I barely amounted to anything.
After several frenzied, bloody decades, the barrier visibly grew ever weaker. The gods therefore went to the Astral World, and before leaving, they purged the wanton cults and evil gods.
Unsurprisingly, I too received the treatment due an evil god. My faction and believers were wiped out, and I suffered a tremendous blow myself. But it was not worth worrying about. Long before Farbauti fled back to the Abyss, I had beaten him up and taken his Sequence One and Sequence Two characteristics. Unfortunately, I had failed to keep the Uniqueness. Amid the chaos of those final years, I completed the ritual with extraordinary ease, consumed the characteristic, and securely advanced to Sequence Two of the Devil Pathway, "Archduke of Blood." Afterward, civilization was rebuilt, the laws were refined, and the world was made anew, as though madness and chaos had never existed. At that time, I too followed humanity's footsteps into a new epoch.
4
Well then, according to my understanding of human customs, one should offer a business card or introduce oneself upon first meeting.
I was a Great Old Dominator. I was a god who roamed the sea of stars.
I adored all life that hovered on the brink of death, lingering on its last breath. Life and death were both illusions. Life was meaningless, nothing more than a journey from birth to death; only the things created in the course of living held value. I loathed extinction just as I detested new life. I loved only watching living beings expend every effort, yet fall inescapably toward death and hopeless straits.
I came to Earth precisely to put all of this into practice. This broken land, weathered by war, was in decline, and I easily acquired the necessary knowledge through my authority. Pathways, the Primordial, Great Old Ones, Pillars. I obeyed the instinct for convergence. I loved decline but hated utter destruction. Therefore, I would eat them, eat those gods, devour my adjacent pathways, seize sefirah, and then acquire sufficient authority-to plunge this universe into eternal, unending decay, until time grew blurred and space itself shattered, with all things struggling to survive in a world without hope or despair, forever unable to reach the singularity of complete destruction and rebirth.
I was the master of withering, the monarch of decay, the final journey of all life. Even death could not reach where I dwelled.
I was an Angel of the Abyss, "a survivor of that bygone era which no longer exists"-I was "Edward Vaughan."
TBC
A very, very long time later, I looked at this flourishing Earth and still hated it from the bottom of my heart.
It's all about taking part, letting loose, and updating whenever inspiration strikes. Why can't I change my avatar and ID yet?
Before you continue