"The rule of time manipulation."
The very moment the god of darkness uttered these forbidden words, the golden hall of the Cacospheric guardian trembled.
Maxwell's blue, widened eyes narrowed immediately, and in less than a second, the pervasive sadness that'd pricked his heart for eons seemed to vanish, replaced by a coldness that even words couldn't begin to explain.
Malin's eased gaze flickered, and the black, swirling mist that made for his eyeballs shivered, the dark divinity in them coalescing as he turned away from Maxwell.
At that moment, the gods felt a presence so large and so heavy that it made their divine souls shiver.
"He's here," Malin uttered with a calm voice, majestically standing from his crouch, a heavy expression outlined on his pale face. "I expected this."
Outside the golden hall, the most brilliant vestige of the Celestial King howled, roaming through space and slithering between the brilliant, shimmering stars in the distance.
The invisible vestige manifested as a sharp convergence of all winds that flowed in the Peresinian deserts of the twenty-four heavens.
The winds of eternity.
The howling vestige moved with a will of its own as it rattled its elongated claws made to dissuade the plans of any god who even thought or attempted to break any of the ten absolute rules.
The god of eternal water stood upright. His facial expression hardened, forming a tight frown. And as he gritted his teeth, the green robe that flowed over his calves fluttered, kissed by the howling cascade of converged winds that somehow made their way into the halls.
'I have survived the 12 plagues of Menellu,' Maxwell thought, outstretching both his palms. 'I have ended the legacy of the demonic gods in the farthest regions of the 48th universe where no transcendent sought to traverse.'
Maxwell's blue eyes glowed with a furious light.
'I will not falter when I finally have the chance to hold Rita's hands again!'
Malin, who stood beside Maxwell, growled as he crouched into an engaged stance. He turned his neck toward Maxwell and spoke:
"We have to find a way to hide our presence. His vestige wouldn't be able to detect us if we do so."
Maxwell nodded, slapping his palms together.
"Frilo," The god of liquid called.
As if harkening to his call, a faint blue thread escaped Maxwell's soul, floating into the distance.
And almost immediately, the air particles that floated around the encircled gods froze. While the air particles remained frozen, frilo, the blue thread, split into a million different pieces, each form wrapping around every air particle.
In the next moment, the very concept of air in the halls disappeared, replaced by liquid.
With a single thought, Maxwell willed these newly created liquids and formed a barrier that hid himself and Malin, shielding and sealing both their divinities from the outside world.
"Good," Malin exhaled in relief as his shoulder slumped.
Maxwell smiled bitterly, nodding.
"I might be nearing my end, but I still have a lot of tricks up my sleeve."
Malin chuckled softly, shaking his head.
"You never change, old friend."
"I know," Maxwell replied, gazing at the howling wind that blew through the golden halls, circling the glass table and the golden seats.
With a grim expression, he turned to Malin, and he asked with a grey tone:
"What was that about breaking the rule of time manipulation?"
Malin blinked. And his lips stretched, forming a warm smile as he averted Maxwell's intense gaze.
"Don't tell me you've never thought about it, Max?"
Maxwell's eyes widened slightly.
'Max.'
That nickname. The lone water god couldn't remember the last time he'd been called that, just Max.
If he tried to search his memories, then it would have been traced back eons ago. Probably from the times when he was still mortal.
Those days were his golden days. Maxwell wondered, why was fate so cruel to him?
Why did it take away everything he so loved and adored? His precious friends, his loved ones, his happy, complete life.
He rarely ever saw his best friend, Malin, since their paths and domains as gods diverged.
Maxwell had become a lonely being.
And so, to this lonely being, hearing the nickname that carried the warm memories of the times when he wasn't burdened by cosmic responsibilities and when he still knew what love actually felt like, his heart melted completely.
Malin was right. He was so right.
There was never a day this lonely god didn't think of going back to the past, to fix everything, or even manipulate the timeline to fix this current era.
But alas…
"Our domains of conception do not conform to the manipulation of time," Maxwell smiled bitterly. "We cannot–"
"I have found a solution to that."
Maxwell looked up at the god of darkness, staring into those eyes of his. Those mists of darkness.
"And what solution is that?"
"Seeing that the vestige of the Celestial King decided to grace us with its presence," Malin looked outside the invisible liquid barrier, gazing at the eternal wind, "I can confirm that my solution is plausible."
"But how? Your domain is darkness, not time. There hasn't been a god whose domain is time ever since the Celestial King rose."
"But historically," Malin smirked, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat. "There has been. Even before the existence of the Celestial King. During the era of pantheons, before the seven seats came into power. I've spent centuries searching for this solution, Max."
"Haa," Maxwell sighed in exasperation, the weight of Malin's words pressing on him as he fell, butt-first to the ground. He looked up at the god of darkness. "So you… for me? You–"
"There are several mistakes that I also want to correct. So many wrongs that I want to make right. And there's this… I– I was going to use this 'solution' for myself. To go back alone. I only came to see you one last time before I go."
Hearing Malin's words, Maxwell's melted heart absolutely shattered. His pulse skyrocketed, fingers trembling in pain of a hope drowned in despair.
Finally, Maxwell lowered his head, staring downward.
"Ah, I see."
"But," Malin said. "My pains cannot be compared to yours. And the vastness of my grief pales in comparison to yours. You lost a love; meanwhile, I failed to love."
The god of darkness brought a small crystal vial out of his coat.
"I have watched your turmoil for centuries, my friend. I have watched you cry in pain, watched you struggle to put on that delicate mask and facade of coldness and bravery, knowing very well what lies underneath. I…"
Maxwell watched with his mouth agape as Malin threw the vial on the marble floor, the crystal breaking immediately.
"I may be a cruel being, as I am the god of darkness. But I am not a cruel friend. No," he shook his head. "Not even a friend. A brother."
From the broken crystal, a dark essence rose, wafting through the air.
It was the divinity of darkness.
This dark essence circled Maxwell and Malin.
Malin stretched a hand toward Maxwell.
Maxwell's gaze softened, and he grabbed the dark entity's hand.
"You deserve it much more than I do," Malin said, raising Maxwell.
Suddenly, loud crashing sounds echoed through the vast golden hall, prompting head turns from the two gods.
"Oh my."
Various positions of the glass roof of the hall had been broken, and from the various broken parts, eight indescribable entities of different shapes and sizes jumped into the hall, the weights of their existence mixing with the bearings of their divinities, causing the gravity to rise to heights higher than high.
'The other eight guardians of the Cacosphere,' Maxwell thought as he stared at them with narrowed eyes. 'They must have felt the eternal wind's presence and noticed something was wrong.'
Malin chuckled.
"It seems they'd noticed that I stole the treasure of one of the High Celestial Elders."
Maxwell glanced at Malin, dumbstruck.
"What?! Wait, I thought– what was all that talk of the gods before the age of the seven seats?"
"Oh, it definitely belongs to a god that existed during the era of pantheons. But his treasures had been taken by the celestials after he died."
The dark essence that flowed in this barrier began to consume Maxwell and Malin.
Maxwell recognized what this was. Teleportation.
This made Maxwell ponder a bit:
'Both the vestige of the Celestial King that only shows up when a rule is broken or about to be broken, and the other Guardians who've appeared, tracing the stolen treasure and the sources of the vestige's aggression…'
'They knew there was only one person Malin could run to. Me. And the fact that Malin said he'd expected the wind's arrival.. it seems he'd been running from the wind ever since he conceived the idea of stealing the treasure. If so, then why did it take the wind this long to find him?'
'I don't fully get it, but…'
Maxwell gazed at Malin.
'...He predicted this outcome, didn't he?'
[Come out, you traitors! We know you're both in here somewhere! Even if we can't see or feel your divinities, we can feel your presence! Siege Twins of the Cacosphere!] The guardians screamed in unison.
Maxwell's head turned toward the sources of the roar, eyes widening.
'Oh? Been a while since they called us that. Frankly I haven't heard that title ever since we got tied to the burdens of responsibility.'
The eternal wind kept howling.
Malin, once more, chuckled.
"Just like old times."
"Which god exactly did it belong to?" Maxwell asked.
As the dark essence finally consumed them, the scenery of the eight guardians, the wind and the golden walls immediately faded as they slipped into the void. A space of expansive darkness.
Through the void, they travelled to a null realm.
Malin cleared his throat.
"We're headed to his still existing realm right now."
"Who??"
Malin smiled.
"Have you ever heard of the deity Kronos?"