"It has to do...with the end of the world."
Damian looked at Cor and Prophet with a strange expression on his face.
As far as he knew, the end of the world had already passed them once the Spell brought the horrors of the Nightmare Creatures to their world.
So even if there was going to be another cataclysmic event, it surely couldn't be worse than what has already happened…right?
As the thought crossed his mind, a strange chill crawled up his spine as if to whisper distant laughter into his ear.
Finally, he looked into Prophet's eyes as he spoke.
"The end of the world? Sorry to tell you this, but that's already passed us by. What more could even happen?"
He paused for a few moments before he leaned in closer,
"Unless you mean to say you've discovered the secrets of the Spell?"
Prophet regretfully shook his head as Cor started to speak for him again.
"No…not quite."
"It's…how do I put this? Apparently, the world, the Waking World, is on the verge of being devoured."
Damian leaned back in his chair, his more joking attitude replaced with dire focus,
"Devoured?! How…when…tell me everything."
Cor stared deep into Damian's eyes as an exaggerated sigh left his lips,
"That's actually one of the two things we wished to ask for your help with"
"Prophets' visions about the future have been…less than a little helpful in this matter."
"It appears that… Most people that we know are not destined to last long enough. Or perhaps the ones that are do not possess any divinity for him to burn."
"However, we hope that you, with your many connections, may be able to provide some answers.
Damian let out a small sigh as he looked past the two men and out of the window behind them.
Dozens of people worked together to make the Citadel and the surrounding area safe from the threats that loomed around every corner.
'How many of them will survive?'
By the sounds of what they had seen, not many people from this time will survive to pass on their knowledge to the next generation, a shame.
Damian returned his attention to Cor.
"Makes sense, it is my mission after all, there's probably no one who will be better connected and as such more knowledgeable than me. At least me in the future, that is."
Cor nodded with a small look of disappointment and shame on his face, almost like he felt left out in a way.
He must have felt bad about not being able to aid his superior, as he did not possess a stain of divinity upon his soul for Prophet to burn.
"You mentioned two things earlier. What's the other?"
"We can discuss that one after we understand more about this impending disaster."
"For now, I wanted to ask, do you think you're in a good enough state to provide those answers now, or would you wish to rest for a few more days?"
Damian was conflicted for a moment.
He would have preferred to rest for a few more days, as his body was already screaming at him with aches and pain simply from the short walk and conversation.
However, he knew that the faster he helped them out, the faster he and Jasper could get on the road to Nightwalker. Unlike all other Awakened, Jasper's superhuman physique was only functional whilst he was moving around.
With the injuries Damian saw earlier, he feared the young man would die from the strain on his body if nothing else, so no matter what his own body said or protested, they needed to move as soon as he woke up.
Without saying a word, Damian stood from his seat and dismissed the upper portion of his armour, leaving his torso exposed as he summoned the blade Warden had forged for him into existence.
Looking down on his body, he could see faded scars from where he had previously cut into his flesh to leave a message, a grim reminder of the fog.
He didn't look at the two men as he prepared to cut into his own arm.
"I'm fine, let's do it."
As he was about to move the blade, a firm hand caught his wrist as Cor's expression had become startled,
"Damian…love the enthusiasm, but that won't be necessary…you can dismiss or memory you don't need it."
Damian looked up at Cor's face before he turned to Prophet, who was currently massaging his temples as he stood from his chair.
Slowly sitting back in his chair, Damian dismissed his sword as he watched Prophet circle around him as Cor presented him with a thick stick bound in a thick leather material.
"I would advise you to bite down on this. The process is not…pleasant from what I've been told."
Damian suddenly had second thoughts about his agreement to this plan as he took the stick and placed it in his mouth.
Quickly after, Prophet stood behind him, having dismissed the gauntlets of his armour and placing his bare hands on Damian's shoulders.
The feeling was strangely intimate, which reminded Damian of Elizabeth.
His thoughts were focused on her, wishing for her and Marisol's safety above all else.
With his mind distracted, he willfully ignored as the golden hue illuminating Prophet's skin seemed to burn a little brighter, then brighter and as it did, the light seemed to infuse itself into Damian's body.
At first, the heat of the divine flame was warm, almost relaxing, as it stretched across his body.
However, for every moment that passed, the heat kept rising and rising until he suddenly felt Cor hold his wrists to the chair as his body began to shake from the pain, as he bit down hard and tried to focus on the thought of his family, safe and sound.
///
Prophet felt Damian's body convulse underneath his touch. It was not that he wanted to hurt the man, quite the opposite, actually. It was simply what he needed to do for his ability to work.
After his ascension, he no longer needed a blood sacrifice like before, though he still could if need be. These days, however, he preferred to target the source directly, making the visions far clearer and easier to navigate.
He felt the flames greedily devouring the essence of Damian's soul as his vision was filled with what he hoped to be the answers to his many burning questions about the future.
At first, the scene did not appear to change apart from the fact that he was now sitting instead of standing and was recovering from the sensation of being burnt alive. However, he did not sit long, as he suddenly stood and turned around.
Prophet's mind froze for a moment as he saw himself on the floor, as blood poured from his mouth, as he shouted what almost sounded like a song he had never heard before, or was it a strange prayer?
"One day the gods will fall and reveal their lie."
"The one who sleeps will awaken to devour his children."
"Oh, and us all."
"That which was forgotten will be remembered."
"Oh, all of us will dream the nightmare."
"Of the Forgotten God."
Prophet had never heard this before. What had he seen to put him in such a state?
His instincts were telling him to turn back, yet he had to know, at the very least, he would have to warn Damian to avoid whatever had caused it.
He pushed forward, watching Damian's life play out at incredible speed. He watched as days turned to weeks. Watching both Damian and Jasper venture through the DreamRealm, fighting Nightmare creatures along the way.
He watched as they carefully avoided what seemed to be another Citadel. This one is situated in the centre of a wide river, with various titanic structures resembling ancient gates descending from the cliffs, which steeply descend like stairs made for a giant.
It seemed to act as a dam against the powerful currents crashing against it from the base, which originated from an endless stretch of ocean, crested against the cliffs, with a wide beach on either side of the gates.
The Citadel itself was a defensive marvel, with siege battlements that rose along each side, pointing towards the mouth of the river as it crossed into the sea.
The peak of the cliffs where the main Citadel was located and the base where land met sea were over a kilometre apart.
However it wasn't the magnitude or sheer scale which gave the two pause, instead it was the strange shadows lurking underneath the river's surface.
The largest one was contained between two of the titanic gates, as thunderous roars of scraping metal could be heard echoing in the air.
Whatever had been trapped within these walls was not something they had ever intended to meet.
They spent a few days slowly moving through the cliffs, taking a wide path down to avoid any unnecessary conflict with the goliath of the gate as they made their way to the beach.
As they walked along its surface, the brilliant sands softly pressing against their armoured feet, they watched as the sky contorted, brilliant lights appearing, tearing away the daylight from the rugged cliffs and woodlands and thrusting them into a dreadful night filled with beautiful constellations.
Prophet nearly lost himself at the sight. This was the first time he had seen the sky of the Stormsea, something he wished to see for himself someday.
They waited on the coast for many days, unsure of what to do until the figure of a titanic ship loomed in the distance before crashing into the shore with terrible force.
Strangely, the visions grew hazy for a time as they boarded the ship and met with the eccentric Captain.
Soon, he found himself, some time later, on the very same shore, watching as the boat sailed off into the distance.
A terrible storm had appeared, and in a desperate attempt to escape it, the two men fled into the cliffs in search of refuge.
Instead, all they found was torment.
The creature of the gate was so horrific to witness, he avoided its gaze as he watched the fight pass over in an instant, not bothering to pay attention to the details, he would wish that he had, as he suddenly found himself in a place he did not recognise, yet found oddly familiar.
It was similar to the space between the worlds that the Spell had assessed the Awakened after both the First Nightmare and returning from the Dream Realm. However, it was also vastly different.
The distant stars and silver strings had become muddled and obscured.
The place felt empty and alone, yet he heard a voice.
"Watcher…"
The voice was both male and female, beautiful and ugly, young and old.
It was as if the world itself were talking, and yet he heard nothing at all and everything at once.
His senses felt overwhelmed, and yet there was nothing surrounding everything.
The experience was difficult to describe in words, and as a result, his mind broke.
He experienced everything, and nothing at all.
The last thing he saw was a figure, one of their seven fingers raised to a formless mouth as an endless song entered his mind.
"Sleep now, watcher, forget the forgotten, yet remember his song. His promise broken yet unmade."
"This is not your path to walk, let the witness be not aware of nothing and all."
Prophet's mind shattered as he released Damian from his grip, falling back to the ground as he reached up and tore the mask from his face.
He sang the song and yet could not remember where he had heard it, for it had no beginning or end, it had yet to be written but already complete.
Bloody foam spilt from his lips as he shouted,
"One day the gods will fall and reveal their lie."
"The one who sleeps will awaken to devour his children."
"Oh, and us all."
"That which was forgotten will be remembered."
"Oh, all of us will dream the nightmare."
"Of the Forgotten God."