An Eldritch Legacy: Sin & Sacrilege

An Episode on "The One Who Saw the Past"

Welcome back, beloved viewers. This is your one and only Narrator, the Observer, the One Who Heard It All. Call me as you will...

My duties are many, and so is what I know.

Once again, I have returned to present another segment—a privileged view behind the scenes of history, an insight into a past that would have long been buried… if not for Him. He wishes for you to see the past, and so, I shall unveil it today.

Today, I bring you events of a past so steeped in power and consequence that it may shake you from your very seat.

This is the past of the Herald of War, the Wrath of Madness, and the only Primordial Sin of Wrath.

This is how his story came into being—long before the others were born, long before Astrea became what it is destined to be.

Beyond the edges of the universe, where reality glowed so brightly one might mistake it for a shard of pure light, there existed something else. A rolling darkness lurked just beyond, an abyss so vast it defied meaning itself. It writhed, unfathomable in depth and silence. Yet within its void, screams echoed—countless souls lost in torment, and sometimes, the deranged laughter of those whose despair had twisted into madness bled into the waking world.

Becoming responsible for some of the ancient horrors, the god cities experienced or would experience in time to come.

Many within this universe remained blissfully unaware of what waited beyond its fragile borders.

Ah, only fools would call it 'Darkness.' Such a simple name! Might as well have been mockery! For something so unfathomable, why would anyone sane compare it to the mere absence of light? 'Darkness' did not and will never deserve the privilege to be compared.

But good for us all, I knew better; I had seen it for what it truly was—after all, I was created from a single kernel of its boundless weight—it was something far worse.

This was not a mere shadow.

This was madness incarnate, so profound that it manifested into reality itself. It broke the very laws of existence, willed into being by forces beyond comprehension.

And yet, despite its chaotic nature, the rolling darkness did not once invade this universe. No—it remained still, shifting endlessly within its confines, never once taking a step beyond. It had been this way for countless eras and eons. No one knew when it first emerged, nor whether it had always been there. But one truth remained constant: it never changed.

No matter how vast the universe grew, no matter how much reality expanded, the darkness remained the same—rolling, writhing, whispering with the endless symphony of madness, the cries of the lost, and the weight of despair itself.

And yet…

On one fateful day, everything—and yet nothing—changed.

The moment one of the Cletus bloodlines stirred, the abyss of madness remembered something it had long tried to forget, and with vengeance it snapped; the full-on force of its bite almost broke existence at its roots; existence quaked in anger and helplessness, but before this abyss, they might as well have become toddlers throwing tantrums.

The weight existence was forced to bear was something only existence knew; the weight of madness was something it had never felt before.

In this struggle reality had become nothing but a shadow that was forced aside by the combined forces of existence and creation, for reality would have been torn apart if it had chosen to hear the rage of the abyss—or maybe they feared what reality would become should it be corrupted by the unconscious reactions of madness.

The wails of despair ceased. The laughter of madness fell silent. The ever-shifting 'darkness' froze in place.

But now it was Creation's turn....

And she shrieked...a concept so unimaginable that many did not even realize what Creation had done...

For Creation itself to devolve to such a state was something many would never know, for before creation could fall into madness born from inferiority, it happened.

For the first time in what could have been eons, the thirteen thrones—monuments of unfathomable power that loomed above the abyss—shifted.

A sound followed.

A sound that defied reality itself. Not that she was any important before...

The raw metallic power within was something that made me feel a new type of dread even to this day.

By right, being hand-molded by his hand, I should have been greater than any of his heralds, but just the heralds' voices were enough to plant a seed of fear so deep that I had to resort to some minor or not-so-minor actions in the future.

But by that point, it would not be my problem; seeing it bloom would also be a chance for me to observe more.

A sound heard across all of creation… and yet, not heard at all.

It was an anomaly, a paradox, an impossibility made manifest. And though none could truly comprehend it, one undeniable fact remained: this moment would shake the whole of reality if its implications were known.

Among the hazy figures seated upon the thirteen thrones, voices stirred. They spoke, but their words slipped through time and nothingness, lost to all but the void itself.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, a single voice cut through the silence.

"I'll go."

"And that is final."

"As the first of our blood legacy and ichor, it is my right—and my duty—to descend and serve our Lord."

The voice carried no discernible traits. It was neither fierce nor regal, neither soft nor harsh. It was an enigma, a presence without form.

And yet, whatever it spoke, it left no room for resistance. The other thrones fell silent.

An unnatural coldness would creep into the bones of those who heard the voice, as it seemed to see who dared defiance...

Their figures remained indistinct, their grandeur beyond mortal comprehension. And yet, despite their immeasurable power, there was a feeling—an undeniable truth that they accepted with every fiber of their being:

There existed something greater than even them.

The voice spoke once more.

"Four of you shall accompany me to serve our Master in his endeavors. The rest of you must remain to suppress the madness that stirs within him—lest it spill into the light of creation."

"#**#..... You will nurture creation back in shape; we don't want her breaking down at such a time."

"And all of you… must continue the search for his—"

Silence.

The darkness resumed its quiet, endless motion.

And nothing more was heard again.