Click!
"Te..."
Click!
"Ta..."
Click!
"To..."
A muffled, gruff voice echoed in the middle of a ruined palace, where waste lay and the smell of blood and rotten corpse was thick in the air.
The space around the source of the voice was silent, and the only light that shined in this silent and ruined palace came from above the man — It was the cleaved moon.
The moonlight barely shone from beyond the dark clouds and the dark sky that covered the world.
***
Tat! tat! tat! tat!
The sound of the footsteps of a desperate man, running with all his energy to relay good news rang out.
Huff Huff
His breaths were forced and heavy, and drops of sweat slid down from his forehead to his face. His throat was dry, his legs were weak, and his heart was beating rapidly, but still, he couldn't stop running. Not now, not when they had finally gotten the good news they had all been waiting for.
"M-my Lord! My Lord! Huff.. Huff.."
The man cried out as he got closer to the source of the muffled and gruff voice.
"My Lord!"
Upon reaching his destination, the man wheezed and arched his back as he placed his hands on his knees, all in a feeble effort to stabilize his breathing.
As he raised his head, the sorry sight of his lord struck a sharp chord in his heart.
'He's like this again.' The man thought to himself as he fixated his gaze on the depressed Emperor.
The Emperor sat on his cracked throne. The throne room wasn't as glorious, dazzling or preeminent as one would expect a throne room to be.
How could it be? After all, the whole world was in ruins and the entirety of the Empire that was once lush with life was now made waste as the cities and every corner of the Empire was filled with debris and dead bodies.
The man raised his head to look at the Emperor who sat high up on his throne, repeating the process of flicking his pocket watch close and opening it again, making a 'click' sound.
The Emperor's gaze was lowered on his pocket watch, he kept flicking it open and close, paying no mind to the messenger or what he had to say.
"Te..."
Click!
"Ta..."
Click!
"To..."
He kept mumbling to himself, the messenger could barely hear his voice.
"My Lord... the Archmage! He finally did it! He finally found a way for us to travel to another dimension!"
Click!
"T–" The Emperor's eyes widened as he heard those words and he paused his mumbling.
He lowered his gaze from his cracked, nearly fallen golden throne and swept his gaze across the heaps of debris around him to meet eyes with the messenger.
The Messenger flinched as he met eyes with the Emperor, and he swallowed hard, for the emperor — even when in a depressed state, carried the pressure of an unconventional being whose presence defied logic.
"What did you say?" His gruff voice was cold and shallow, lacking any emotions but carrying a hint of expectancy.
He was already about to give up on his life and the life of the people, but he had heard this sudden good news.
The Messenger kept looking at him with a blank, pale face, dazed that the Emperor who had refused to talk to anyone for months had finally spoken to someone, and it was him, a mere messenger.
"I asked you a question! What did you say?!"
His voice was thunderous, and as he yelled, a bolt of lightning struck from the dark and cloudy sky, leaving a web-like crack on the floor in front of the messenger.
The Messenger shuddered.
Suddenly, he was pressed down by an unknown force that weakened his knees and made him lose strength in his legs, causing him to fall to his knees as his body convulsed.
His heart tightened as he clutched the shirt on his chest and looked up at the Emperor with pleading and frightful eyes.
"My Lord! P–please! Please..." He wheezed, enduring the pain he felt in his lungs as he fought to continue breathing. "Please withdraw your aura, lest I die!"
The Emperor glared at him from his throne with his cold, golden eyes, his golden eyes that once had spark In them. The spark was now long gone, leaving no trace of its former self, and all that remained was the hollow, dead, golden eyes it had become and the dark circles under that comforted them.
The Emperor withdrew his aura.
Huff.. Huff..
The Messenger finally caught his breath... And with a shaky, almost inaudible voice, he began to relay his message once again.
"The Archmage Alphonso... He broke through to the ninth circle after converging all paths, and the dimensional research he was conducting for our escape has finally borne fruit. He has succeeded."
The Messenger, who bowed in a way that his forehead touched the ground, explained to the Emperor.
Hearing the messenger's words, glistening tears fell down the eyes of the Emperor, and he let out a single word; "Finally."
He stood up from his throne, and he walked gracefully down the cracked steps. With each step he took, the messenger felt the force of gravity around the room increase and press down on him.
The Messenger gritted his teeth with his head still low, enduring the force of the Emperor that threatened to crush him as he approached him.
The Emperor halted mid-step, standing next to the messenger, and he said, "Your good service will be rewarded." Then he continued walking.
He got to a point where he halted his steps again.
He crouched low, causing the ground under him to crack from nothing more than his sheer force.
The Emperor flew off, leaving the ground where he once stood, destroyed.
The Messenger watched as his Emperor flew away with a bitter smile on his lips.
"Maybe in my next life, you will reward me, My Lord."
Having said that, he took out a dagger from the pocket of his trousers, and he stabbed his chest, piercing his heart. He fell forward, his face hitting the floor, and he lay lifeless.
He had killed himself because his end was already near.
Why?
In the entirety of the ruined world, only fifty people were alive and constantly struggling to live. And it was two people who saved them: The Archmage Alphonso, and the Emperor of Kafer, Delarus.
It happened when no one expected it. The seven seats — gods that governed the heavenly realm, had brought upon their wrath on the Planet Cryst. They descended on the world with their army that consisted of thousands of Angels and hundreds of thousands of their Immortal subordinates.
They had descended on Cryst, with all their arsenal to fight one man.
Just One mere mortal — The Anomaly that defied fate — C$&#@es!
Their battles shook the very core of the planet, and the presence of death roamed around the surface of the world.
People died, and all living things died. Plants, animals, beasts, monsters, and even the beings that lived in the middle of the planet all died as everything was laid to waste.
Now, the only survivors in this apocalyptic world roaming with War-angels, and Demonic Immortals were the fifty people in the Kafer Empire, in the Northern continent of Nuncapor.
The world was no longer inhabitable, and even the air was poisonous, and filled with destructive divine energy.
With each passing day, the survivors could feel their life span slowly diminishing.
The lucky survivors who were citizens of Kafer, The Archmage and the Emperor had come up with a plan. A plan to abandon their world and run to another. A plan that seemed far too delusional and nigh impossible. But in the face of death, one would hold onto any single string of hope they could find.
Now, with the help of the Archmage, their Impossible delusion had bore fruit. They were ready to leave the planet. All the survivors.
But in life, things almost never went as planned...
"What the hell are you doing Alphonso???!!!!!??!!" Delarus yelled as he fell into the blue mass of swirling energy — the dimensional gate. He was pushed by Alphonso the Archmage.
"I'm sorry My Lord, but... The portal can only hold one person, and if there's anyone here who deserves to survive, after helping us come this far, it is you. Do not despair My Lord, we all agreed to this." Alphonso, with a bitter smile on his face, said.
Tears rolled down Delarus' cheeks, and his gaze fell on the faces of the fifty survivors as he fell into the gate.
He could see some women, crying and holding their children, some men with swords holding the women and comforting them and Alphonso was at their front leading them. They were all on their knees, and they all bowed their heads to him in one last, final act of respect.
Just before the gate closed and warped him, he saw them bring out daggers from their pockets, pointing the sharp edges to their chests, about to stab themselves.
Then he saw the bitter smile on his Alphonso's face.
Whoosh!
The gate warped him.
"Why???!!!"
On that day, Delarus, the Emperor of Kafer, truly lost... Everything.