Do you know Trimystery?

Of course, you don't.

It's an organization hidden in obscurity, supervising mankind from the aloof towers and starry lands. They guide the mystical according to their will, anticipating every supernatural threat with an impartial rule. They have always been here, watching and manipulating the flow of time— distorting, dictating, defaming, denouncing, and degenerating the values of our antecedents— with a version that never existed.

Betrayal. It stabs, vilifies, then degrades the very core value of trust. There is no physical pain that can compare to this agonizing torture of not knowing who? Just who in the world would want Trimystery to end?

There is no one who wishes this more than me.

This world's biggest lie is its history and there's no more heinous deceiver than a believer himself.

I am a believer, always been, have been, should be. Or so I thought.

It was them who betrayed me first, so it is just right I retaliate in kind.

Trimystery is an organization led by three overachieving archmages. They are immortals who have seen much of humanity both good and evil. They are entrusted by the Original to guard this world against the dangers of outliers, alien entities beyond our dimension. I don't know what is the Original— neither its intentions nor inclinations towards good and evil— but I know, the true nature of Trimystery and the people that led it. And it is because I know that's why I am doing this in the first place.

Blood seeps on my boots as the fighting becomes more intense. The Scholar was crucified while his followers are being herded like lambs to slaughter. Energy weapons of immense scientific magnitude made quick work of the prideful but pathetic mages. I watched the bloodbath with depraved delight as my soul was enlivened by their dying screams.

There is no better day than today to live, and I am living in it! Every second of it! A sense of validity accrues in my heart. It motivates me to do more, be more— for the cause!

"You are pathetic," the Scholar, the crucified old man, spoke with a raspy voice. His grizzled white hair hides the light in his eyes, but even so, I can feel it. The derision pierces into me like needles to nerves.

"You have no faith... That's why you will lose. Maybe not today, but someday!" The Scholar added in his weakening breath finally revealing his reddened eyes crying tears of blood. He smiled a manic smile~ and within his sore gums, he softly chuckled.

His scornful laugh irritates my ears to no end. "Listen old man. The Seer is useless, and the Seeker is hopeless. Your compatriots will soon join you, so you won't be lonely anymore. I will make sure it happens." I walked closer to get a clear gaze at the Scholar's eyes, it was trembling— with rage, fear, and overwhelming regret. It causes me immense joy as I revel in this chaotic euphoria.

This should be the way it should be! Despair!

"When the time comes, I will personally crucify their cold corpses by your sides. Then I shall set it aflame!" My vindictive voice flowed with a sharp vendetta. I levitated using telekinesis to level my eyes to his.

"Despair! That is what you shall do, shall feel, and shall be your end! Watch me as I devastate this world and return it to the primordial state it once was. I will redefine the concept of magic according to my visions. I will be God."

"PREPOSTEROUS! HOW DARE YOU!"

The Scholar suddenly found strength in his voice, this is an outrage. His dried magical powers flared like the temperamental seas causing a tsunami of invisible potent force. I ignored it with my own barrier magic, but my soldiers weren't spared. Even the mages that worked for the Trimystery were caught in the onslaught of the unexpected magical outburst.

"As expected of the Scholar, but you dare me?" I said these condescending words aware that round 2 wouldn't be as easy as round 1. This time, the Scholar will fight with everything he got. He already saw my tricks once, but I don't give a damn. Die.

Die between the gap of life and death, of impermanence and immortality, cease to exist.

My will flowed through the aether at the very tip of my fingers, are miracles of profound reconciliation, against nature and man. The scholar engaged in a battle of wills, which I gladly entertained him with. As the most ancient among the archmages of Trimystery, and has the most honed mind, the Scholar possesses a terrifying amount of such will. Something that I will never compare to...

Alas, I am God.

The aether, the purest form of magic, churned at the behest of our tug of war. Our wills clashed and our minds were intent on victory. The energy weapons my people used cannot penetrate the swamp of magical fluctuations enervating around the old man. Even though crucified, the Scholar proves to be quite a challenging opponent. But such struggles are meaningless. In front of the enlightenment I have cultivated from my past lives, the ending is already inevitable.

"I told you, old man. I won't kill you just yet. I'll simply let you die...again...again...and again~"

The gap between life and death, his soul unbound

Of impermanence and immortality, forever shackled

On the cross, he was forced, only to cease to exist

The Scholar's vigor retreated at my overbearing magic. Flawless wards of unknown runes enveloped the cross as it slowly creeps at the old man's skin. His already withered flesh started to look more hollow like the oldest of revenants that dwells in the most haunted crypts.

Defeated and weary, the old Scholar appeared pitiful in his semi deranged state, for he is tormented. He has no idea who is the betrayer in front of him, something that I am truly grateful for despite the hypocrisy I am indulging myself into. My mask covers my face perfectly, beautifully hiding the sadness that momentarily engulfed my being.

The Scholar was once my mentor, then my equal, and now— my enemy

Runes of dark origins and corrupted dementia slithered in a spiral manner around the scholar. Slowly, the old man's skin turned wooden orange just like the cross he was nailed into. The Scholar was sealed in a manner befitting for the leading archmage of Trimystery, exactly worth thousands of souls circumvented across the globe, from the very same mages that lectured Trimystery's teachings themselves. It is both mortifying and ironic, a grim and poetic ending I could have never hoped to achieve in a thousand lifetimes.

I felt the carvings of the Mythril mask on my face. Its ivory surface gives a mystifying aura that calms my heart. My men combed the cathedral, searching for survivors, tying loose ends, and the like while I idly stand in front of the sealed scholar.

Is it guilt, appreciation, or the devoid emptiness of realizing I achieved nothing just by simply sealing the Scholar? Sure, we felled the superpowers that rule this world with extreme machinery precision, but I am still reluctant to further plunge the world into anarchy.

"I... sense... INDECISIVENESS!" From the shadows, his obscured form rose, the very prophet that bestowed me this Mythril mask and offered me a path to godhood.

Young one, hesitate now and all your efforts shall be for nothing. You don't want that, do you? He sent his intentions to mine as if talking into my head. It can't compare to the telepathic magics I am aware of. The self-proclaimed prophet is a blind bald monk wearing a dark cowl typical of their kind. His voice is raspy and is ladened with old age.

How far have I fallen, to actually associate myself with dark mages? Un-fuckin-believable...

Everything for the cause, I guess. Everything for the cause...

Empowered but still in mourning, I walked the path of a tyrant. I roamed the streets sowing destruction among the ranks of meager mortals. the smell of gunpowder permeated everywhere I go. The stench of blood and echoes of screams followed my every attempt for redemption. If my goals are met, I am certain that the old amiable Scholar would forgive me as a father would to his son. Then the Seer would look my way, as to how she usually does. Then there's the Seeker, an oddly reliable older brother who always helped me at his expense.

They would forgive me, right?

I conjured delusions to slow my descent to madness. To fight fire with fire is foolish, but what could I do? I am already on this path, and there's no way to go back anymore. If only I can unsee things I have seen, unheard things I have heard, and unspoken things I have spoken. My desire of demolishing Trimistery weighed heavier over my love for the three closest persons to me. Though they aren't even people, to begin with, I believe in the rightfulness of the bonds formed in relationships.

Now, I am destroying such relationships like a loose cannon to this world. Westerners, Easterners, Americans, Europeans, Asians, and even the smallest people weren't spared from the devastation of such an incomprehensible war. No one knows who is fighting who. I simply join where the battle is the loudest, contributing to the growing chaos of this world.

After Trimystery's downfall, this world easily fell prey to the outliers' meddling, then chaos further proliferated.

Statelessness, Unlawfulness, Madness!

Magic and Science heralded a new dark age~ and a new ruling. From the north, they came, mantling the cape of the empire. They call themselves the Empyreans. I am one of them. We ended the dark age, like how we started it. The dark age isn't short, even to my standards who have achieved eternity along the bloody journey.