God of Nothing

Aleph flexed his arms outward, summoning his new and improved exosuit. Separate plates of mithril assembled right on his skin in an intricate pattern not unlike Rayse’s shield. He would have made some for his disciples, too, but with all the extra projects he needed to rush through, he only had time for his own. He sensed activity around him, indicating that his students were preparing for battle as well. In all that time, he never took Superbia off his sights. 

“Which heralds were spotted?”

He asked Andrew, who fluttered in place, awaiting instruction.

“The Herald of Atrophy was spotted in the East Gate, while the herald of the white forest had shown itself West.”

Aleph thought for a moment, quietly considering his options before giving orders.

“Lacey, go and support Iona at the East Gate. Atrophy is terribly proficient at magic, so I need you there to tip the scales.”

“Yes, master!” Lacey saluted, before conjuring up a cloak of winds for her own. She leapt off the wall, landing at a distant rooftop and running along it.

“Rayse, Brandon, can you handle the West? Immediately engage the herald as soon as you see it. Its portals may prove to be our undoing.”

“”Yes, master!”” The pair shouted, running along the wall as a pair. Aleph briefly watched them go, before floating up to where Andrew was. He flew more gracefully than ever, owing to the few wholesale adjustments he had made to his equipment in weeks past.

“Andrew, return to your post. If there are any developments, shoot out flares in the sky. You know the color designations, I assume?”

“Yessir. We were all briefed by Lord Carrack’s men when we arrived.”

“Good man. Take care of things here, while I engage the demon king.”

“Yes, sir!” Andrew answered before splitting up with him. Aleph turned, about to propel himself at the roiling black mass in the sky, when he spotted another figure racing towards him. Whoever it was left a trail of red in the sky, as if his advance left a red scar across the heavens itself.

“Hey! Did I miss it?” He said lightly.

“No, Vaynard. You are just in time.” He greeted. The young king floated before him, pure white cloak billowing in the wind. He had his sword drawn, Rage’s Horn dripping in malice. It clashed with the pure gold armor he wore, a relic of the royal family. Aleph made some modifications on it, one of its new abilities is the mechanism that allowed Vaynard to fly. It was an impressive array of items, fitting for a king going off to war.

He gave the newcomer a quick look-over before furrowing his brow. Something was missing.

“Did you bring it?”

“Yeah, it’s right here.” Vaynard answered, patting an auspicious pouch on his potion belt. It was his ‘gift’ from months before, a valuable item in the coming fight.

“Good. It is a tricky item to use, even for mw.  Are you sure you can handle it?

“There won’t be a problem! You’ve been teaching me how to use it since you got here, do you think I’ll forget after the twelfth time?” Vaynard brushed it off. Aleph nodded, going down the list.

“Have you spotted Lost and her heralds?” 

“They vanished with that bright flash, and our scouts hadn’t seen them since. Even the dragon was gone, that big ole git..”

“Setting up an ambush, perhaps?”

“Hah! Are you kidding me? Of course they are! What I’m wondering is why attack now, and with only half of their full strength. You would think with that teleporting guy, they could set up something much more sinister.”

“Whatever it is, we are in agreement. Destroy this so-called Superbia, before our enemies have time to adjust. Will our defenses hold?”

“Carrack has it under control. I even gave him Conquest’s, y’know.” Vaynard winked at that. Levity aside, it was enough to convince Aleph.

“Excellent. I have also instructed my men to inform us of any developments just in case.”

“Ohhhh, about them. They did a really good job, setting up that– Napalm, I think you called it? Excellent work.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” Aleph bowed lightly.

“Stop it.” The king irritably said. “Are you done double checking? We’re wasting time here.” He jabbed a finger up at the floating sea, along whose surface ran the beginnings of another lightning strike.

“Yes, sire.”

“Awesome! Let’s go. I heard that the herald that took my father’s body answers to this guy.” A flash of mania flitted across Vaynard for a moment there, just enough for Aleph to spot. He held it in well, but he must be itching for the chance at revenge.

He would gladly oblige.

The pair raced up, as the floating sea spat out black froth as if in response. It shot out bolts of electricity, but Aleph spun and wove through them. Vaynard flat out ignored the strikes, leaving him wholly unaffected. He reached the ball of liquid first, slashing downwards as he did so. The turbid seas parted, revealing a hollow interior. It was almost pitch black, although Aleph thought he could make out a platform. Vaynard kept going, courageously making his way inside.

Clap!

Aleph followed, hearing the massive mass of liquid crash down behind him as he did so. He followed the red trail of Vaynard’s blade, floating through the passageway.

“Urk!”

“I greet you, human king.” Said a synthetic sounding voice. By this time, Aleph’s sight has adjusted to the dark, stopping just in time to see Vaynard get impaled by a jet of liquid through the neck. He stopped short of a figure in the dark, whose features were hidden by a massive throne cut from the seabed.

“Some host you are.” The king’s lips parted with a smile, pulling out his other blade to send black flames onto the demon on a throne.

__________________________________

“There!”

Rayse and Brandon ran along the wall, finally catching sight of the white forest. Rayse’shands felt clammy, remembering his previous encounter with the forest. They glowed sporadically, bringing more and more demons into the fray. They spotted a group of mages down below, already hard at work at facing down the horde.

“Dammit, we’re late!” Brandon swore, clamping down hard on his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s go! Jump!”

The magic shot them forward, right into the fray. To Rayse felt less like jumping and more like getting shot out of a cannon, but it brought them immediately into the thick of it.

“Haaah!” Rayse shouted, crashing his shield against one of the fliers as he broke his fall. Brandon stomped at another right beside him, its remains splattering everywhere as the pair landed. They arrived literally in the middle of a battle, with a large group of emissaries converging on a battalion of mages. Brandon’s blade glowed a piercing red, a precursor to one of his most deadly attacks.

“Huuup! Fortress cutter!” 

Several emerald green shields were put up as a response, but Brandon’s attack sliced through them like air. The dozens of emissaries on the ground were sliced clean in half, effectively ending the skirmish.

“Fortress cutter? Really?” Rayse was miffed. He was eager to fight, but his friend ended things way too quickly. He shot down some of the flying emissaries with well placed Scale Shots, but it just wasn’t the same.

“...What?” Brandon asked with mock sincerity, already down on his knees fishing out emissary hearts. “I thought ‘death wave’ was too edgy.” He threw the heart over to his friend, who absently caught it. 

“Here. Take this and fill up Unbroken. We’re gonna need that thing if we wanna break through.”

Rayse was still shooting down the fliers while dragging the few he shot down closer for harvesting. He caved a few of their chests in, creating a cloud of mana over their heads.

“Thanks, kid. We owe ya one.” Said one of the mages. It was Luke, smiling at the pair who had just arrived. Rayse took a brief look at the fifty odd people in the group. Their conditions were alright, but with a seemingly endless procession of emissaries, who knows how long they would have lasted. 

Rayse stomped on a few of the closest corpses, releasing even more mana vapor in the air.

“Healing breeze!” The spell converted the mana in the air into a refreshing breeze, healing minor cuts and topping off the group’s mana. Rayse made sure to pull in most of it for himself, energizing his own weapon’s mana.

“That got rough quick.” Luke explained. “That forest is so annoying. They keep bringing in these guys from all over the– Hang on. More of them are coming.” He pointed out, where another two dozen emissaries were charging towards them. These ones glowed with purple, clawing up some barely alive emissaries on the ground, resurrecting them into half bodied berserkers.

“Damn, that’s gonna be annoying. Bran, let’s go get the trees before this gets worse.” Brandon nodded by his side, his blade seemingly fully charged once again. “You gonna be alright here, Luke? I could ask Rayse to stay here, help out with you guys.”

“Hey!” He protested, earning a chuckle amongst the mages. They were veterans, a bunch of whom had already fought with them side by side. Rayse even spotted Polo among the crowd shooing them away. They knew the heraldslayers had a job to do, and they weren’t going to hinder them from doing so.

“Yes, yes, we’ll be fine. Now you’ve topped us off, we can definitely hold our ground here. Just kill them quick before they send some other monstrosities at us.”

“Thanks, Luke.” Rayse said, before holding onto Brandon. “Let’s go!”

“Jump!”

The pair leapt once again, shooting them way over the enemy lines and landing them directly above the thicket of white. Rayse felt his weapon grow warm, as if Sonia herself was egging him on. He tossed it downwards, uttering a spell.

“Unbroken steel rain!” He shouted, causing the weapon to split and fall endlessly on the battlefield.

He expanded his shield and suspended it in mid air, allowing him and Brandon to stand above ground and watch the destruction. The endless rain of steel kicked up a dust cloud that covered the entire area, making them unable to see what was going on below.

That is, until a massive white trunk broke through, swiping in a circular motion to clear up not only the dust, but the falling mass of spears. Vision clear, the pair saw that a few of the white trees were still glowing. What’s worse, in their midst stood a tree thicker than ten of them put together. Long spindly branches scattered all over, showing no greenery of any kind. From up where Rayse was, the white forest seemed one entity, a growing blight against the landscape of his homeland.

Its sudden appearance forced him to raise their makeshift platform as a precaution.

“Tsk!” He clicked his tongue, irritated that his attack did far less than he thought it would. “He’s here.”

“Damn, that’s the herald we’re fighting?” Brandon swore. “I’m gonna need a bigger sword.”