"A single conversation with a wise man is worth a month's study of books." "與一位智者的一次談話,抵得上一個月讀書."
Chinese proverb.
Ungar, Talus, Narcis and Lupus starred down this bizarre demon in the small desert town that looked twisted yet beautiful in some strange way. The ground trembled beneath them, a pulse like a heartbeat rising from the Bone Chair. The scar in the air still shimmered behind Lupus, leaking strands of dark light that writhed like sentient ink. Wind tore through the streets, lifting ash and forgotten prayers. Ungar rolled his eyes. "Twisted or not, it bleeds, right?" Talus, always the sly one, unwrapped the chains from his forearms—each link etched with glyphs older than flame. "It bleeds," he echoed, eyes fixed on Lupus. "But it also remembers." Lupus took a step forward. His voice, when it came, was layered—one tone a guttural snarl, the other something older, almost sacred. "Fine, I'll take care of this." Narcis didn't blink. "We'll see." With a single gesture, Lupus summoned the orbiting swords. They spun faster, forming a wheel of death above his shoulders. But before the first one could fly, the Prayer-Scroll Titan moved. It stood—taller than the dunes, limbs creaking with the weight of centuries. Its arms unfolded, revealing scrolls that shimmered with words still being written.
The voice that emerged was not one, but many: the echo of prayers, regrets, and declarations of vengeance. "This one carries regret. But not truth." A sudden silence fell. The Prophet's followers knelt. Even the wind stopped. Lupus snarled, but hesitated. The swords slowed. And then—Kanji's voice came in, filtered through the Veil, half-heard and half-felt. "Don't fight him because he's a demon. Fight him because he's wrong." The Bone Chair flared, light searing up its spine. Talus moved first, chains lashing forward like snakes. Ungar followed, launching himself with inhuman speed, sword in hand. Narcis stayed back, drawing sigils in the air with glowing fingers—barriers, locks, and traps meant to bind a soul gone rogue. Lupus met them with a cry that shook the dunes. Above them, storm clouds gathered—not of sand, but memory. The war had begun. Would you like to follow the battle or jump back to Hermes, Kanji, and Queen Rava's next move?
An old man put his finger over the page of the book: "As you can see this is the day before the night of the Jinn, when the Prophet met them, the messenger of God nor her companions knew that this creature was a hunting dog of the Jinn to them it just seemed to be some demon. The following report (hadith) states: "On the authority of Talus it was stated: "So the Prophet arrived and aided us in the battle with the Demon and then the Prophet realized this is the servant of some being. The Prophet called out: "Who is your master?" Upon calling upon the unknown a shadowy figure appeared and the creature ran towards the shadow and disappeared. The Jinn asked that she meet the others with only a handful of her followers that night in the desert…" Sahih Majmu." The old man continued and the others had never heard the other part before. "Talus who reported to the Shaykh or elder Dawud reported from 'Amir who said: I asked 'Alqama if Ibn Musa who asked Lupus the Izadoran and Talus the Demon (Mozaku) who was present with the Messenger of God (ﷺ) on the night of the Jinn (the night when the Prophet met them). He (Ibn Musa) said: No, but we were in the company of the Messenger of God i.e. Hermes (ﷺ) one night and we missed her. We searched for her in the valleys and the hills and said. She has either been taken away (by jinn) or has been secretly killed. He (the narrator) said. We spent the worst night which people could ever spend. When it was dawn we saw her coming from the side of Hiri'. He (the narrator) reported. We said: Messenger of God, Oh holy prophet, we missed you and searched for you, but we could not find you and we spent the worst night which people could ever spend. She (the Holy Prophet) said: "There came to me an inviter on behalf of the Jinn and their like and their kinfolk and I went along with him or her and recited the word of God as God spoke the words directly to me. He (the narrator) said: He then went along with us and showed us their traces and traces of their embers. They (the Jinn) asked her (the Holy Prophet) about their provision and she said: Every bone on which the name of God is recited is your provision. The time it will fall in your hand it would be covered with flesh, and the dung of (the Chrononers and Camels) is fodder for your animals. The Messenger of God (ﷺ) said: Don't perform istinja (using water or purify yourself with those things) with these (things) for these are the food of your brothers (Jinn). For those among the Jinn who disbelieve among the Jinn and they follow the laws of the Arcturians, the Muhammadans, the people of Christ and the people of the Book, the Buddhists, the Hindus, the Polytheists, the Pharaonic Jews, etc. say to them: "Your God has bestowed the proper religion for you, and these other roads are false." One of the older men responded: "Who told you that this hadith (report) was Sahih (authentic)?" The old man explained: "On the authority of Ungar I met with him close to two years ago and he told me of this event in the life of the Holy Prophet (whom God bestowed with mercy and gave as a mercy to the worlds)."
The wind stilled. A crescent moon hung over the dunes like a watchful eye. The campfires of the Prophet's companions flickered against the silence, casting long shadows. Hermes—hood drawn, silver staff across her back—walked alone toward the black horizon. From the dark rose a presence. A swirl of sand twisted into form—a woman cloaked in flame-woven silk, her eyes a burning gold, her voice layered with the echoes of a hundred tongues. Hermes was approached by a group of Jinn in the desert; many of them had a single eye and sharp teeth.
"You are the one who recites the Word without fear."
Hermes stepped forward, eyes unwavering. Her voice carried the calm of oceans, the steel of justice. Hermes said:
"And you are the one who sends beasts to test my companions." Behind her, Kanji and Queen Rava stood at the ridge, watching. They didn't even move. This meeting wasn't for them. After this occurred the demons approached her and Hermes began to preach to them. The Queen of the Jinn walked barefoot across burning sand that left no marks. The Jinn Queen said: "I am Al-Darrah. Daughter of the Hidden Flame. We watched you from the smoke of Babel, from the fires of Ashkelon, from the caves beneath Qaf. And still you walk with light. Why?" Hermes held out her hand. Light flowed from her fingers—script not written, but spoken into reality. Hermes replied:
"Because even the dark has ears. Even wrath can listen. And I was sent not to punish... but to wake you."
A sudden gust—embers swirled, forming a ring around them. The Queen's warriors appeared—horned, shadowed, robed in stars. But they knelt. All of them. Kanji whispered: "She's preaching… to the Jinn." Hermes raised her voice, a thunder not of volume, but truth: Hermes said:
"Your rage is ancient. Your exile, earned. But your story doesn't end in rebellion. God has sent a path—not just for the clay-born, but for all. I am the mouth of that mercy. Hear me." The Queen's eyes narrowed. Then—she smiled. The Jinn Queen said: "Then speak. Preach. And let my tribe decide." The fire in the scholar's room dimmed. The old man shut the book slowly. The old man replied: "And thus was the first pact made—on a night when demons knelt, and fire listened." The others were silent. Then the youngest spoke. The Young Scholar asked the Sheikh: "And if it's true… what happens when the pact breaks?" The old man looked out the window. A storm was coming. "I don't know, I just don't know," said the old man.
Hermes looked at Queen Jinn and said: "Am I not worthy?" The Jinn Queen looked her over and eventually said: "I suppose so, come with me and we will enter the realm of the Jinn and you will meet our guardian, our god." Hermes followed the queen into a portal which closed behind her. She had entered a world that was beautiful, the Jinn lived in a world where everything was made of crystals. The Jinns followed all sorts of religions, some were Polytheists and worshipped Stone Idols, some were Atheists, some were Buddhists who went to Buddhist temples and had their own Buddhist monk who were Jinn monks that remained celebate and only ate vegetarian food, their were Hindu and Jain Jinn, there were Sikh Jain, there were Muslim Jains who went to Mosque and listened to their Jain Imams recite the Quran, they had Christian Jinn who worshipped and listened to the Gospel from their Priests in their Churches, and Jewish Jinn who listened to the Torah from their Rabbis in their Synagogues, there were Jinn that were Taoists, Pagans, Jinn that belonged to religions unknown to other races, they were not a unified people. Hermes cried out: "YOU ALL DEFY YOUR GOD! It is not Jesus, or Allah, or Yaweah, or Buddha, or Shiva for they are false idols. It is only the supreme God, "the Nus." OBEY ONLY GOD and follow none of these false roads (religions). God is not to be obeyed like an idol, there are no letters or symbols that represent him, he has no attributes, the world is his attributes and not his attributes, he is not begotten, he is one and he lies nowhere and everywhere may He testify every word that I have said." Many of the Jinn became angry but the queen raised her hand and in an instant they all went quiet.
The Jinn Queen replied: "The Prophet claims she is a prophet of the only god and she seeks to confront our god. I have allowed this." Stars stretched like wounds across the black sky. The crystalline world vanishes as the void consumes all. A floating disc of shattered stone hovered in the dark. Hermes stands at its center. Her blue hair floats like silk in zero gravity, her cloak swirling in invisible currents. Her silver staff pulses. The crescent moon now bleeds light like a blade. Suddenly— SHHHHHRRAAAHHHHHHH! A cyclone of wind carves open the void. From within the vortex descends The Wind Dragon—a titanic beast, serpentine, with feathers of emerald and gold. Its wings stretch beyond sight. Its eyes are pupil-less cyclones. Its voice, a thousand whispers screaming in unison. The Wind Dragon said:
"You speak of one god in a world of many tongues. You defy our law. You defy the balance. You will be tested, prophet."
Hermes doesn't flinch. Her chest rises. She tightened the strap of her cloak, revealing her toned midriff and the sacred markings along her ribs—glyphs that glow with each heartbeat. Hermes yelled:"Then test me, beast of air and ego. I carry the breath of the Nus. I am His storm! I am the Logos and I am the Light!"Hermes leapt into battle— She shot through the void, a meteor of blue light. The Wind Dragon roared, flapping its wings. Hurricane-force winds shred space itself. Time stutters. The void flickers like torn film. Hermes twists mid-air, staff spinning like a propeller. She shouted: "Scripture Style: VERSE STRIKE—'Let there be fear!'" Letters of light spin from her staff—arcing into divine blades. They slash across the dragon's face—scales chip off. The beast screeches. But it recovers instantly. Its body breaks into wind. It reforms behind her. WHAM!!! A tail made of compressed atmosphere slammed Hermes into a shattered moonrock. Blood floats. Hermes coughed, eye bruised, lip bleeding. Wind Dragon (coldly) replied:"Your truth is heavy. But your soul is still light. You're not ready to bear it."Hermes said in turn:"Then I'll burn my weakness. Here. Now."She threw off her cloak. Her body began to glow—blue fire bursts from her back. Wings of script form. Her hair whipped wildly, and her eyes blazed like twin novas. "REVELATION MODE: MESSENGER ASCENDANT!" Hermes charged. The void bent around her.
She punched the wind itself—it tears, revealing the truth beneath: an infinite silence. She spoke again—this time not in voice, but in will. Hermes (telepathically) replied:"You are a guardian, not a god. Bow, or fall. I am the last word."The Wind Dragon falters. Its chest splits open—revealing its core: a spinning cyclone of doubt, anger, and memory. Hermes drove her staff into it. In a moment the world fell apart and an objection appeared above her, "Defeat Tatu." Nifty replied: "Well, there you go, another mission."
Hermes clicked yes. And before her appeared a cyclops being burnt to a crisp by a strange wasp-like creature the cyclops cried out: "Please master, spare me." Ungar, Narcis, Sarai, Daniel and Zaiyal starred at the scene unfolding before them in shocked silence but Hermes stepped forward. The Cyclops fell to the ground as his skin slowly peeled from his body and as he screamed in agony. "Well, well, do you know who I am. I am the Wasp Prince Tatu. Do not stand before me, for this world is destined to become my dominion." Cinders float in the air. The Cyclops' body twitched once more, then lied still—charred beyond recognition. The others could not speak. Even the wind seemed afraid.
Tatu slowly turned. His compound eyes reflect Hermes' blazing form.
Tatu said: "You're no god either. You're a messenger. So deliver this: extinction." His wings blurred—then he was gone. Hermes parried his attack in mid-air. Tatu's claws raked across her script-wings, shredding a line of glyphs. They scattered like burning pages. She's thrown back—smashes through a floating monolith. Hermes (said to herself):"Fast. Strong. He warps heat and venom into one. If I hesitate, I die." "Last Verse Requiem"] Tatu dive bombed Hermes, a trail of golden fire in his wake. He stabbed with a stinger the size of a spear—Hermes blocked it with her sword, which spun mid-air and transformed into a blade etched with scripture. Tatu hissed: "You protect a corpse of a world! I built a new hive!" Hermes flipped, backhanded him with a wave of willpower—actual words spiral from her blade and exploded on contact. Tatu crashed into the ground, the terrain folding inward from the impact. Hermes said: "You don't build. You consume." Tatu replied: "Fine then. No more games." He roared—and his final form burst out. Chitin cracks. His humanoid-wasp shape was distorted. Six wings stretch wide. A crown of stingers formed on his head. The sky turned gold. "ROYAL ASCENSION: STING TYRANT FORM!" Everything around them melts. Even gravity flickered. Hermes breathed out. Her aura pulsed. Then she did something unexpected—
She wrote a word in mid-air with her blade:
"SILENCE." It echoes through the arena, not as sound but as force. Tatu freezes for a second. His flame faltered. Hermes (telepathic, calm, resolutely said): "You're not the end of the world. You're just noise. And I? Am the period." Hermes unleashed a series of blows, it was over as Tatu was knocked into the earth, the mission was over. The virtual voice rang out: "Mission Complete: Tatu Defeat!" Level: 6,000,000,500! Received gift package." The mission was over, she appeared before the dragon who had transformed into a large breasted human-looking woman. Hermes recited a verse from her god that He spoke through her:
"The abode of Paradise (Heaven - the Afterlife) much like the abode of the Hell-Fire is temporary, each soul only resides in Paradise or in Hell for a maximum of 10,000 years before being sent to the world of the void (not the demonic void). Those who reside in Paradise for that allotted time will be given beautiful maidens (Houris), with wide-eyes, extremely large-breasts, large areolas, large succulent lips, beautiful hips and so on whom those in Paradise will have sexual-intimacy with in their Palaces. People are born knowing and believing in God - Exalted is He - and the Paradise I just described but their parents fool them into worshipping stone idols and make them into Polytheists or they teach them to worship the moons and the stars."
The dragon who was now a female stated: "Is this something that I believed in as a child as well." The Prophet replied: "Yes." The two began to battle again. The dragon was now a human woman with large breasts, angel like wings and blue hair with a glowing golden sword she charged into Hermes who charged at the dragon in turn with the Spirit Blade in hand. The battlefield cracked under their feet. Hermes' eyes flared white-hot, wings of scripture burning anew. Across from her, the dragon—now woman—descended in radiant fury, golden sword igniting arcs of blue lightning with every beat of her angelic wings. Hermes: "So even dragons dream of gods?" The Wind Dragon: "No. We remember them. I was born of flame, I was made from fire, not faith. But even I trembled when He spoke through you." They clashed. Steel met light. The Spirit Blade rang out with verses not heard since the Dawn Wars. The dragon's sword cleaved through meteors falling from the false sky. Their strikes shattered what was left of gravity, sending waves of force through the shattered simulation.
Hermes: (blocking a slash) "You are powerful. But you're still searching." Dragon-Woman: (parrying, then slamming a kick into Hermes' ribs) "And you think you've found something real in that voice? That... God?" Hermes flew backward, skidding through glowing rubble—but she didn't fall. She gripped her sword tighter. Hermes: "I don't think. I know. Truth is not proven by belief. It's proven by returning." The dragon screamed—wings spread, forming a halo of light behind her. "HOLY ASCENT MODE: DIVINE CALAMITY FORM!" Her skin glowed like sapphire under firelight, her voice layered with a chorus of past lives. Hermes whispered a new command:
"Commandment XIII: The Split of Knowing and Burning." This attack reverses any attack via the use of pure Qadar (Divine Energy). It turns any ability the foe is using against itself thus all attacks being thrust by both parties are all sent towards the one not using the technique. A wall of glyphs emerged between them, scrolling endlessly in both directions, then folding inward like a black hole of scripture. The dragon-woman's sword pierced through—Hermes sidestepped, leaving behind an afterimage woven from light. Hermes (telepathic, steady): "You used to believe. That's why you still fight. "Dragon-Woman (telepathic, rage-peeling into sorrow):
"Then make me believe again." They met mid-air—a collision that tore open the sky. For one second, it was silent. Then— A double shockwave. A pulse of white. The arena bent inward and reset. Reality pixelated, then reformed. The dragon lay on one knee, panting, blade broken. Hermes stood above her, sword pointed down—not in cruelty, but in finality. Hermes:
"I won't kill you. Not because I can't. But because He wouldn't." Dragon-Woman: "…Then maybe He's worth remembering." The virtual system pinged:
"Mission Complete: Final Dragon Defeated. Access granted to Arc-Heaven Interface."
New Level Achieved: 10,000,000,000. Gift Package Delivered.
Hermes looked upward, the stars reshaping into a path of golden steps. Hermes (thought to herself):
"Let's see what comes after gods." She thought for a second confused: "That battle was real, why would I be rewarded for that?... No matter."
When Hermes opened her eyes she was in the middle of the desert Talus and Ungar ran towards her. "Well?" said Ungar. The Prophet smiled: "Can't you tell? I acquired the dragon. Tomorrow we travel to the realm of the Great Forests. It's just several miles across from the oasis. That is the abode of the Earth Dragon. We will begin our trek tomorrow."
One of the older men interrupted the other, "But there is a broken link in the chain, there is no way to verify that this report is accurate, it can't be drawn back to the time of the Prophet." One of the elders said it was confirmed by Zorman from the planet Zakal. Zormon is Shaykh-Al Imaan and he knows all the sciences of politics, economics, religion and law (fiqh)." Another one of the scholars: "Declared, the Prophet said: "Anyone who tampers with my words will be doomed to Hell-Fire." We cannot take this lightly, we must know if the chain can be drawn directly back to the time of the Prophet, they need to be complete like this chain: "Abu Zubar reported from Ungar and Talus that the Prophet (may God bestow peace on her) took on a group of separatist terrorists at the Xelios University. They used advanced technology and weaponry but God protected His Prophet and she was able to subdue the enemies of the Qadariyyah Imperium." The Scholar whose name was Zubair replied: "That chain is undisputed, the only way I have confirmed this chain without any doubt as I asked Ungar himself, even though Zormon is a Shaykh al-Imaan and a Hujjat-al Imaan that is not sufficient to make such a proclamation I needed proof from someone who was there."
The chamber of scholars fell into a hush as Zubair's final words echoed: "I needed proof from someone who was there." The silence lingered—not of agreement, but of dread. It had been over a thousand years since the Prophet Hermes vanished into the Arc-Heaven Interface. Many of the reports had been debated over their authenticity. Zubair stepped back, folding the scroll with reverence. "Without unbroken isnad (chains)," he said slowly, "we must treat these reports as sagas, not law. The Prophet's battles inspire us—but inspiration is not instruction." One of the younger scholars, a woman named Safiya—her eyes augmented with memory-track implants—rose from her seat. "Then explain the Oracle Cycle. Explain how every one of Hermes' Commandments predicted a geo-temporal rupture within twenty years of being recorded in the Qadar Codices."
Zubair sighed. "Correlation is not causation. And we still don't know who encoded the Thirteenth Commandment. 'The Split of Knowing and Burning'—that Commandment isn't present in any of the authenticated scrolls from the Oasis Archives. It only appears in post-Ascension data fragments..." Another elder, one cloaked in blue and bearing a rusted dragon cane, interrupted. "But it works." All eyes turned to him. He stood slowly, bones cracking. His name was Yansur ibn-Hafeth, a relic of the Second Reconstruction War. One of the few left who had seen Qadariyyah relics activate. "I've seen it," he said. "Commandment XIII. A woman—calling herself the Prophet Returned—used it on the Fields of Glint, right before the sky fractured." Safiya leaned forward. "You're saying Hermes... returned?" "No," Yansur said, voice dry. "Not Hermes. Something born from her code. Something... residual." Abu Hasan declared: "I have heard of such a thing, a child told me it resembles something from an ancient videogame called the Xenoblade Chronicles, something about the second installment. For a man named Cronos meet this mysterious woman in the Metaworld. This was told to Abu Mansur." Zubair looked to the others. "Residual code does not prove divine intent. It proves advanced technology. Simulations. The Prophet walked in and out of fabricated worlds. The Arc-Heaven Interface may be a vault, a prison, or something else entirely. But if she never died, only ascended—then what walks now may be imitation, not incarnation." A man shouted: "Do you doubt the testimony of IBRAHIM AL-ASH'ARI the founder of the Qadari school of (Kalam philosophy). He is one of the most renowned scholars in the three surrounding galaxies." Safiya's voice sharpened. "What the brother says is true. Then the question becomes: does imitation make the truth less true?"
Yansur nodded grimly. "If the dragon laid down her sword, and the Prophet walked onward, and the Interface still pulses with command logic—then perhaps this is the accurate chain of narration." Zubair crossed his arms. "And where is this so-called Prophet Returned now?" Yansur didn't blink. "In the Metaworld of course." A murmur spread through the council. Some invoked prayers. Others whispered doubts. Zubair simply stated: "It is just conjecture as of now. God - Exalted is He - will sooner or later reveal the truth." Ten years following the death of the Prophet which would occur 200 years after the events of this story, civil war (Fitna) broke out in the community of the Religious Empire she had founded. Her successor or the Commander of the Faithful, Umar who was deemed her Khalfia or successor had to deal with a great number of people who had become apostates from the Religion of the Prophet. Reports such as this came in: "Commander of the Faithful, the Believers… The people are leaving God's religion. What do we do?"
The apostates of the various tribes and the various races of the various planets under the dominion of the faith would declare: "The Prophet has died. And my faith in the religion has died with him. I followed the Prophet not you." At times the war and the religion seemed lost, Umar's men often declared in the midst of holy battle: "We will not win this war! We must retreat!" And the apostate rebels would say of Umar: "He is not my leader, brothers. Don't give him your bay'ah (alliegence). Omar and his army are coming, mount your weapons!" In the midst of one battle the Asnar (Warriors) were growing wearing and Omar their leader approached them and said: "To the honorable Companions of the Ansar, their children and their woman-folk, your virtue in religion and the faith you have in God and His Prophet are undeniable. God is indeed pleased with you as supporters of His Religion and His Messenger and Prophet. You followed her as immigrants from different worlds and you held your faith tight to your chest. You were on the front-lines in the Void and you shattered the backs of Demon-Kind. We are the first immigrants, but you will always be the Ansar - (the Helpers). May God bless you and grant you Paradise may you all be 10,000 years allotted in Paradise with wine and maidens to fulfill every man here." But still reports came in: "Commander of the Faithful, people are leaving the faith of God. What do we do? For they continue to leave God's religion which has been perfected for them and join the ranks of False Prophets and Messiahs." Omar declared: "We must gather our army and the Ansari and see what the next step should be, God willing. And may we fulfill his eternal will." False Prophets had begun to pop up all across the galactic empire and there seemed to be no stopping them. Letters were sent by the King to the peoples whose leaders had renounced God asking them to return some did but many refused. All of the territories and planets that refused to submit would be re-conquered Omar had ordered this himself. Eventually the tide of war changed and the Apostates cried out again and again:
"Oh brothers, Omar's army is close behind! They will shatter our gods and idols and we will have no mercy." And the zealots would cry out: "Come back to your king, your emir, your sovereign, the prophet has passed but not God's religion! God's revelation lives on and it must be followed!"