My world-tree system-Chapter 61 - 60: Frescoes

The silence was absolute.

Only the distant crackle of a torch dared to disturb the dark immensity that enveloped the place. This was not a castle, nor a council chamber, nor a temple. It was a space between two realities, a place where even time seemed to hesitate to flow. The air was heavy, saturated with an invisible power that would crush the soul of anyone not worthy of standing here.

Eight silhouettes floated in the darkness, scattered like pieces of a broken circle. None of them had any real form. At times, their bodies seemed to be made of shifting ashes, at others a mass of flesh and indistinct shadows. Their voices, when they arose, resounded without echo, as if even space refused to carry them.

- The hindrance weakened.

The one who had just spoken did not move, but his presence became more oppressive. A dull vibration accompanied his words, as if the universe itself were bending under his weight.

- She’s not just weakened. She’s broken.

Another voice, older, huskier. There was a hint of amusement, though it seemed out of place in such a place.

- And yet, nothing moved.

A murmur ran through the room, a wave of power that immediately dissipated.

- It will come.

- It must come.

A heavy silence settled again. Neither of them seemed to be in a hurry. They had waited so long. They could still wait.

Then, at last, one of them stepped forward. Unlike the others, his silhouette was more defined, more tangible. Tall, draped in a cloak deeper black than night, he wore a silver mask tarnished by time.

- I’m off.

The others turned their attention to him, without showing any emotion.

- To the forgotten.

- To what came before.

The masked shadow tilted his head slightly.

- The Kaius.

A murmur passed through the assembly, like an icy breath in a thousand-year-old tomb.

- How dare you?

- They no longer belong to this world.

- And yet, their traces persist.

The masked being didn’t answer immediately. His invisible gaze swept over the assembly.

- We cannot afford to fail. Vollua survived. The avatar of the World Tree has awakened. And if we do nothing...

He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. Everyone knew what that meant.

- So be it. You go. But don’t do anything rash.

Silence returned, even heavier than before.

The cloaked shadow took a step back... and disappeared.

Far, far away, in a place no one dared visit again, a storm roared.

Black lightning ripped the sky to shreds, casting its cursed light across a landscape of ruins and ashes. The air was saturated with the smell of sulfur and decay.

The masked lord stepped forward.

All around him, the ground was cracked, littered with broken statues and monoliths deformed by time.

Vestiges of another age.

Of another reign.

A forgotten reign.

He placed a hand on one of the pillars and closed his eyes.

Immediately, he felt a presence. Stealthy, residual, but still there.

A shiver ran down his spine.

He murmured, almost to himself:

- Show me what’s left of you, Kaïus.

And the wind stopped blowing.

In front of him, a gaping fissure ripped through the ground, sinking into unfathomable depths. From the darkness came a chill air, laden with an almost imperceptible murmur.

Without hesitation, he plunged in.

The darkness swallowed him whole.

The air was humid, saturated with a metallic smell. The further he advanced, the more the space around him opened up.

Then, suddenly, his eyes fell on what awaited him in the shadows.

A vast underground chamber.

The walls, high and imposing, were covered with ancient frescoes, incredibly detailed despite the wear and tear of time. Every inch was marked by a forgotten story, told in images.

He approached slowly, touching the cold stone with his fingertips.

The first frescoes stretched from floor to ceiling, each one fitting perfectly into the next, as if the story were flowing without interruption.

In the beginning, immense creatures dominated the world.

The masked Lord squinted. Their bodies were reptilian, slender and covered with scales that glittered like jewels. Their outsized wings stretched beyond the edges of the frescoes, as if stone itself could not contain their wingspan.

Their eyes...

Even faded by time, they retained an overwhelming, almost living presence. Slit pupils like those of predators, full of intelligence and power.

They were unlike anything he’d ever seen.

Further on, drawings showed these beings building cities, titanic temples carved out of the rock itself. With their claws and fiery breath, they shaped the earth, erected palaces suspended in the heavens, traced rivers of fire and luminescent forests. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

They were gods among mortals.

But as his gaze followed the story, the atmosphere changed.

The first sign.

In the distance, in a fresco where the heavens stretched as far as the eye could see, an obscure rift split the firmament. Barely visible at first, but growing inexorably.

On the next fresco, this shadow thickened and spread.

The creatures looked up, worried.

Then, still further away, they tried to fight. Some spread their wings in a protective circle, others opened their jaws, spitting torrents of golden flame to repel the inescapable.

But the crack was widening.

An insidious shadow infiltrated their world, corrupting the air, gnawing at the light.

An abyss opened beneath their feet.

And then, on the last fresco...

Nothing remained.

All that existed had been consumed by a black, gaping mouth, an infinite spiral swallowing the firmament itself.

An absolute void.

An end without a cry.

Without remnant.

Only a name was engraved next to this abyssal representation, in letters erased by time.

Kaïus.

The masked lord slowly placed his hand on the stone.

The darkness of Kaïus had consumed all that existed. The dragons had fought inhumanly hard, pushing back the nothingness as best they could, but they understood: it was not a threat that could simply be fought.

So they did the unthinkable.

On the cold stone, representations of dragons clustered around the black hole, their bodies forming a perfect circle. Light emanated from them, weaving golden threads that wound around the all-consuming vortex.

The filaments intertwined, forming intricate runes, symbols pulsing with ancient energy.

And finally...

The fresco showed the black abyss closing in.

The dragons had sealed it.

The masked lord stepped back slightly, analyzing every detail.

The next drawing showed the creatures gathered around an artifact: a key carved from a material that seemed luminescent, almost alive. It was neither metal nor stone, but something else, something unknown.

The dragons seemed to revere it, to protect it.

Then they hid it.

Right where he was now.

A name was inscribed beneath this fresco, engraved with a particular depth, as if to defy time to erase it.

Erzäe Sanctuary.

The excitement in his eyes was undeniable as he left the depths of the sanctuary.

He knew what he had to do.

With one fluid movement, he knelt on the black floor and placed one hand on the ground.

- The Enclave of the Apocalypse.

The air froze.

The sky above him seemed to twist, to fragment.

Then, a rift.

And through this rift... he entered.

A titanic hall, bathed in shifting shadows.

Around him, six silhouettes.

Six Lords.

The silence lasted for long seconds before he bowed slightly.

- I’ve found a relic of the past. he finally began.

He let the information sink in.

Then he uttered the words that would seal the fate of this world:

- Erzäe Sanctuary.

An invisible wave shook the room.

The Lords did not move, but the air vibrated with palpable tension.

Finally, a voice rose, cavernous, almost amused:

- Are you sure of yourself?

He nodded.

- The frescoes are clear. These winged beings have enclosed something. And they did it in this sanctuary.

A whisper escaped from one of the Lords, barely audible:

- Then they’ve left us a gift that will surely delight our elven friends HAHAHA.

Another voice, sharp as a blade:

- Let’s go and claim it!

The being on the throne raised a hand.

Silence fell immediately.

Then, in one breath, he sealed their next move:

- Deploy everything.

The order was given.

In the bowels of the Enclave, thousands of eyes opened at once.

Red irises, yellow irises, white irises... slit pupils, stray pupils, hungry pupils.

The Obscurus were awakening.

Their flesh swarmed, changing, woven with shadows and nightmares. They had no single form, some were as tall as towers, others crawled like slithering spectres. But all vibrated under the same call, the same order engraved in their essence.

Find. Search. Retrieve.

They emerged from their torpor as a single entity, a swarming wave rising from the depths. By the tens of thousands, they emerged from the cracks of the earth, the mists of night, the bottomless caverns.

At the center of the Enclave, ten shadows detached themselves from the walls, materializing as if they had always been there, simply waiting to be called.

The Ten Generals of Hell.

The first to step forward wore armor of blackened bone, cracked by internal flames. Gor’Zhul, the Ravager.

Beside him, a slimmer figure, a smile tearing at his ebony mask. Xelaria, the Bloody Dancer. She killed even before her blade touched flesh, her art going beyond the simple understanding of combat.

Further on, a mountain of muscles and horns split the space, dragging a huge notched axe. Var’Gash, the Soul Crusher.

Behind them, other figures took their places, each with a name etched in terror.

Each was catastrophe incarnate.

Each commanded his own legion of Obscurus.

The Lords of the Apocalypse had not moved, still seated on their shadowy thrones, observing the call of their pawns.

Finally, one of them stood up, his voice rising like a knell:

- Go. Turn this world upside down. Let nothing escape you.

And that was the signal.

They dispersed, stalking Erzäe Sanctuary.