An Eldritch Legacy: Sin & Sacrilege

Looking at his Herald, the entity could not help but sweat for him.

"Why are you looking at your children like that?"

"You would really slaughter your own kin just to appease me."

If the situation were not so dire, he would have laughed.

The Herald had always been so devoted, taking everything to an extreme. No one was as extreme as he was. Even among his siblings, he was what one would call... too much.

Perhaps he was a tad insane... and maybe his mind was also broken a bit

Now thinking about it clearly... maybe his mind was broken

Quite interesting!

He then decided he should observe him more—especially his sirelings. These cubs made for great specimens. And no, he was not going to slice them up.

That courtesy was left for the bad children.

He meant, just look at them—just like their father, they were so adorable. Who could bear to harm such cute things? Especially the girl. She was simply an angel draped in a wenzy.

Too bad she ran into her father's hands. Otherwise, he would be smothering her in love.

Instead, he was stuck with the clueless ones. The boys were not as cute, but at least they had their own quirks.

The second one looked as though nothing concerned him, that shallowness naturally plastered on his face. If not for the movement of his body, one would think he was a creepily beautiful doll.

On the other hand, the eldest was just like his father—wearing all emotions at face value. But he could see him—

Ah, what a day he had had.

He found his first Herald.

Then he discovered that his Herald had children—three of them.

Then he proceeded to learn that the Herald had been raped for each of them... Hahaha... Ah, truly interesting.

He wanted to feel sorry for the guy, but the face he made every time he thought of his shattered pride was too amusing to ignore.

As for the woman... let's just say there would be surprises to come. It would be quite boring if the Herald ended up killing her right away.

The children—hmm. He had to admit they deserved his attention.

They were sired by his Herald and this seemingly 'normal' mortal woman.

He had stumbled upon an interesting world where everything promised great entertainment.

From the swirling Darkness, to its children, chained to its depths, to the so called God Cities built as large as worlds, to the Light that was made a whore for the gods that ruled it, and her children.

He could see how the gods had made work of her cunt.

Ah, truly an interesting world.

It seemed he would have some fun for some time to come.

But he could not stay here forever, waiting for this father to get acquainted with his estranged children.

Ahh... Hahaha... It was still funny the more he thought about it.

Well, anyway, it was about time they left this place and began a true adventure. He would see all the corners of this universe.

Without giving Kyrios a single second to react, he stood, the house shaking at its foundations—probably due to his supernatural weight. In quick succession, he scooped up the children, all three of them in his arms, and said to them:

"Come, little ones. I will take you on an adventure you will never forget."

With no sound or flash, he disappeared, leaving only a few words behind for his Herald:

"Do me a favor, Thorne, and bring your darling wife with you."

"And try to keep up—I want to see this world."

He could feel the flush of bloodlust leaking from Thorne's form as the woman shivered in fright. And yet, she felt a disgusting sense of ecstasy at being called his 'wife.'

"Oh, and make sure you do not kill her, Thorne. After all, your children do need their mother."

Miranda watched as the being disappeared with her children, leaving nothing but words directed at Thorne another name she had learnt in this short time, it seemed like he was a man of many names.

Her 'normal' world crumbled, and nothing seemed like it would ever make sense again.

Feeling the entities bloodlust made her body shiver in both fright and ecstasy—an intoxicating sensation she did not know how to hide.

But then came his words, and like a snake around her throat, she knew that from that moment on, she was at his mercy. She lowered her head, her brown, earthy hair spilling forward to cover her eyes, her expression unreadable.

A constricting heat surrounded her body, violently squeezing her organs in fury—exhibiting pain to the maximum, yet bringing her no harm. And then, the home she had known burned down into flames. The house she grew up in turned to ashes, the crimson shades and schemes of Thorne's fury devouring its structure.

Then, like dust, it dispersed into the wind.

From that day on, Miranda and her three children were no more.

They 'died' in a fire that had no origin, consuming them whole—leaving not even ashes behind. The entire outskirts were wiped from memory, and from that day forward, there would be no world beyond the walls and gates of Astrea.

The people who had lived there, and those who would be born within, would never know that there had once been a world beyond the walls. All they would know was the darkness that struck them with a vengeance that knew no bounds.

But no one cared.

For it was thought to be the wrath of the Lord of Flames, coming to smite them—the Lord of the City of Astrea.

The only god of flame and light.

-----

Deep in the skies of Astrea, in the deepest reaches of the firmament, just above the barrier that kept the surging darkness from pouring into the city, a palace with an immortal, transcendent glow sat atop the darkness that held it in place.

The darkness billowed like clouds or mist, but it never reached the palace, as though it existed in its own reality.

The palace was made of gold so white that it looked like pure light.

It was a structure whose design could not be simply described by mortals—or even those above them. Only a god could clearly perceive it, for apart from its make, nothing else made sense.

To see it and live to tell the tale was a mercy of the gods.

To dare gaze upon it required the courage of an empire at its peak.

Within the palace walls, in one of the largest bedchambers of the entire palace, a man of impossible beauty and regal nature frolicked with soft bodies, their forms entwined in throes of passion so deep that even a monk would blush in shame.

Clearly, he had no qualms indulging in pleasure beneath the open skies, even as the darkness surged beyond. He had no fear.

For he was the god of flame and light.

The Great Diearch and unchallagened Master of the Great City of Astrea.

His authority was unchallenged, and his ichor shone brighter than light.

But just as the passion reached a new pitch, the god's body trembled—not in final ecstasy, but in something that seemed like dread.

And all ceased.

Yet he did not move, still stuck deep within the soft folds of the beuaty he had taken for himmself this day, for he could not understand where this dread had come from.

He asked himself, "Is this nothing but a trick of my senses?"

But as his divine nature ran rampant through the city, and the darkness that surrounded it flattened for distances that could fit a few worlds—

He felt nothing.

He wondered where the feeling of dread had come from.

For the first time since his birth, he had never known fear.

Not even when they restrained her might had he felt it.

Not even when he had fucked her raw and made her scream.

He had never felt this kind of dread.

And so he wondered.

Why did my body react in fear?

Interesting....

And so the passion resumed.

And the moans shook the chains that rattled within the darkness.

He clearly did not give it much thought to investingate the cause of this strange feeling that had been born within his soul.

If even the birth of the cursed twins failed to threaten him, how then woud anything else come any close to those abominations.....