The world around Lucien crumbled to dust, and a darkness passed over him. The very next moment, resplendent purple light drowned the world, and the coldness of water greeted him. The world of purple sky and black clouds stretched out as far as the eye could see, infinitely perhaps.
In front of him, a truly gigantic wall broke that illusion of endlessness, it touched the sky and went beyond it, wide enough to cover the whole world. Billions upon billions of pages made up the wall. Some had writings on them, some had pictures, but most were empty.
One of those empty pages momentarily flickered, and new writing came to life on it. Six runes arranged in a circle, each one describing one of the Daemons.
All of this went unnoticed by Lucien, who was left kneeling on the floor. A deep stabbing pain engulfed his mind as countless pieces of information suddenly snapped together. The rune of Destiny changed in his mind. The Daemon of Destiny, of Choice, of the Darkness and the Mist. The Daemon who had managed to do the impossible and create life.
Soon, the throbbing pain in Lucien's head had begun to wane, and his gaze fell upon the circle of runes on the wall. Of the six, two were emanating a soft glow, and a third was shining bright.
Hope, Ariel, and Nether.
As he stared at them, Lucien couldn't help but wonder what could happen if he inscribed them on something. Would Hope make your desires stronger? Would Ariel force the truth out of you? Would Nether force you to make a choice?
Something told him that wasn't how these runes functioned. Runes that described Divine Entities ought to be special.
Then, something about the runic circle caught his eye. It was incomplete, the six runes did not make a full circle. There was a gap between the first and the last rune, one big enough to accommodate just one more rune.
"Interesting," Lucien muttered, running his hand over the runes, "Is there a seventh daemon?"
Come to think of it, the spell seemed rather obsessed with the number seven. There were seven ranks and seven classes. Hell, there were even seven statues in the forgotten shores.
With the Spells obsession of the number seven, it'd be oddly fitting if there were seven daemons and gods.
There was only one way to confirm his suspicions, and it was waiting outside, back in the real world. Lucien took a moment to look at the runes again before leaving his soul sea.
Outside barely any time had passed. To Eurys, Lucien had just spoken Destiny's name and froze on the spot.
"Say," Lucien began, slowly turning his head to look at Eurys, "There wouldn't happen to be a seventh daemon would there?"
Eurys stared at him with his hollow eyes, "Well of course there is, you're practically drowning in their stench."
He paused and then pointed at the sleeping Nephis, "Well she is, you have a different daemons stench on you."
Lucien glanced back at Nephis and frowned, "What do you mean? How could she be drowning in their stench if the daemons are dead?
"How the hell am I supposed to know that?"
"I don't know, maybe because you can somehow smell the 'stench of a daemon' when you don't even have a nose?"
Eurys stayed silent for a while, and then said, "Fair, I'll give you that."
Sighing, Lucien shifted the topic, "So, who is this seventh daemon?"
The skeletons demeanor shifted and a hint of coldness entered his voice. "Who is the seventh daemon? A traitor and a coward is who. They betrayed their kin when it mattered most and never joined the war. They were too afraid to fight the divine host, so they ran."
Lucien stared at him for a while, wary of the hatred in Eurys' voice. "That's cool and all," He said slowly, "But you still haven't told me their name, or what they were the daemon of."
"Weaver." Eurys said, spitting out the word as if it was something distasteful, "The master of lies and the Daemon of Fate."
"Fate huh," Lucien whispered, and then frowned, "Wait, aren't fate and destiny the same thing?"
"Not at all," Eurys said, returning to his previous demeanor. Scratching the back of his head he mumbled something before saying, "Both Fate and Destiny speak of the future, yes, but they are not the same. Fate is like a mountain, immutable, unchanging. You adapt to it or you die. It is both a blessing and a curse."
Sighing heavily, he continued, "Destiny on the other hand is malleable, it depends on how you choose to interpret your fate. It is the future you build with your own two hands. Your destiny is yours and no one else's."
"Huh," Lucien breathed out, taking a moment to process the information.
Weaver was the daemon of the immutable future, the fate that is forced upon you whether you like it or not.
Nether, was the daemon of building your future, bringing upon the change you wish for with your very hands. That was quite fitting for the daemon who was obsessed with building.
What sort of destiny would Lucien want to make for himself?
A peaceful life for him and his mother, where they wouldn't have to live under a tyrannical overlord. One in which he would have everything he needed to create everything he dreamt of. One in which Effie wouldn't need to stay in the dream realm to be able to walk.
Lucien knew that he was being greedy, but he couldn't help it. He wanted everything. He wanted his mother to be happy, he wanted Effie to be healthy, he wanted his friends to reach their goals.
It was a fool's dream, and maybe he was a fool to want that. But that wouldn't stop him from trying.
By then, the first rays of sunlight had begun leaking in from beyond the horizon, and the deathless had begun retreating under the sand.
Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, Lucien stood up and began preparing for breakfast. In the corner of the room, Nephis began stirring.
Before long, the group of three left the cool shade of the armoury and entered the scorching heat of the desert. The Hollow Mountains loomed in the distance, getting bigger with every step.
No one spoke during the journey, each of them content to stay within their own thoughts. Gods knew Lucien had a lot to think about. The seven daemons, their runes, fate and destiny, Weavers Spell, Nethers Lineage, and a theory he had been working on since the last night.
Everything important came in seven parts. There were seven ranks, seven classes, seven edicts in Lucien's Aspect Legacy, seven Remnants.
Even the Daemons were seven in number.
Why then were there only six gods?
If everything followed the rule of seven, then why were the gods an exception?
One could argue that it was because they are gods that those rules don't apply to them. But Lucien thought otherwise. If that were the case, then the Daemons would also not follow that rule. They were, after all, equal to the gods. He had seen it first hand in his first nightmare.
If they too had followed the rule of seven, why wouldn't the gods?
Did a seventh god exist? If so, who were they? Why were they never mentioned? Where were they during the final war?
Or had the seventh god yet to exist? Was the seventh god supposed to ascend in the future?
Lucien glanced back at Eurys, wondering if he should ask him about it. Before he could make up his mind though, something entered the range of his storm sense.
At the edge of his storm sense, where the desert ended and the mountains began, something was standing, waiting for them.
"There's something waiting for us," Lucien said without stopping, "At the edge of the desert, a Fallen."
"Only one," Nephis frowned, "What is its class?"
Squinting his eyes, Lucien strained to see five nodes of corruption. "A Terror," He said as golden sand began flowing down his arms.
"My, oh, my. Are you sure you want to fight something like that?"
"It's just a Fallen Terror." Nephis said, adjusting her grip on the Dream Blade.
The old skeleton chuckled quietly, "My, oh, my, just a Fallen Terror? I admire your courage, nephilim, but fighting a Fallen Terror as a Dormant and an Awakened is simply a death sentence."
"Not the first time we've heard something like that." Lucien muttered, holding up the twin daggers. "Didn't stop us then, and it's not going to stop us now."
Eurys shrugged, "I am simply saying that there are better ways to kill yourselves."
Ignoring the skeleton, the two of them kept moving forward, making as little noise as possible. Which meant, Lucien couldn't activate his aspect, lest the tyrant be alarmed.
The sun had already begun its descent when they reached the edge of the desert. There was one more dune of sand between them and the tyrant.
Turning towards Nephis, Lucien whispered, "Alright, what's our plan?"
Nephis remained silent for a while, and then asked, "What can you tell me about it?"
Narrowing his eyes, Lucien reduced the range of his storm sense, and the visage of the creature in his mind became clearer. It was humanoid, with two hands and two legs. He could see impulses originate from what he assumed to be the head, and travel all the way to its limbs.
He told as much to Nephis, who took a moment to think about it. Among the nightmare creatures, the ones who looked like humans were some of the most dangerous ones.
It was far more difficult to gauge the abilities of these monsters, consequently it was much harder to plan for them. Even during his time in the hollow mountains, Lucien never came across monsters like them.
After a while, Nephis spoke, "We don't have enough information, one of us needs to go and fight it, figure out what it can do."
Lucien frowned, "Yes, but how am I supposed to relay that information to you?"
Nephis raised an eyebrow and glanced at him, "What makes you think you'll be the one fighting?"
"..." Lucien stared at her silently, and then raised three fingers. "I'm stronger, I can think multiple times faster, and my attribute lets me get knowledge about monsters just by looking at them."
"And that is exactly why you will stay behind." Nephis countered. "Even if I get wounded, as long as you get the information you need, we can still win."
"No, that's too risky. This is a Fallen Tyrant, one wrong move here means death." Lucien did not agree, she was just a Dormant Devil, she stood no chance against that thing.
"Then I will simply need to make the correct moves." Nephis did not give him a chance to argue and began moving towards the peak of the dune, a white glow slowly encasing her being.
"No, wait-" Sighing in exasperation, Lucien followed behind, muttering curses under his breath.
At the top of the sand dune, Nephis looked down towards the Tyrant, and froze. The white glow disappeared and her sword arm dipped.
Before Lucien could ask what was wrong, she spoke:
"What exactly are we doing here?"
Lucien stopped, frowned, and looked up. Nephis was staring right at where the Tyrant was. "To fight and possibly kill a Fallen Tyrant? I thought I made that clear."
It was Nephis' turn to frown this time, "What Fallen Tyrant? There is nothing here."
Now Lucien was annoyed. He could sense the thing out there, for storms sake he could practically taste the corruption coming from it.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Lucien walked up beside her, and looked down, "It's right the-"
The words died in his throat as his gaze fell on the sand below them. She was right, there was nothing there, no monsters, only more sand.
His mind went numb, and a fog of uncertainty descended upon him. Slowly, he opened his mouth and asked:
"What were we talking about again?"
Nephis shrugged, "I don't remember."