Plunging an entire hand into someone’s chest — a great god’s chest at that — was something very new to Gaius. The rational part of him, the part that told Gaius that he should be utterly disgusted, had fallen silent, neutralised by some unknown power.

“Draw it out. His link to the Crying Abyss.” A voice spoke in Gaius’ mind.

“Who are you?”

“An ally.” The voice paused. “Abyss Sovereign, this is an opportunity for you to gain the same power as your demon counterpart. In fact, this is the only opportunity. You are no longer human; you must adapt to that.”

Gaius blinked. You…know who I am?

A chuckle followed. “We will have the chance to talk a lot more if the Demon God’s forces are defeated. I do not have enough energy to explain things to you now. Focus on Anren.”

Gaius nodded, but now that a voice had started speaking to him in his head, the feeling of having a hand inside flesh was beginning to get to him. Even as an assassin, back on Earth, he didn’t recall having such an experience—

“Ahem. Please, focus. Your thoughts are very distracting.”

He didn’t know how to react to those words, so Gaius opted to stop thinking altogether.

“Send your senses through his body…use your qi for that. Push it into his heart, and feel for an energy that’s drawn to you,” said the voice. “Can you feel it?”

Gaius did as he was told.

“Good. Do you remember what it felt like to use Ark City’s General Formula? The bit about finding the chill? It’s similar. You just need to designate that energy as a chill, and then think about drawing it over.”

Think about drawing it over?

“Yes. Just think about it…well done.”

The odd presence in his head fell silent. At the same time, the eerie eyeballs around the Human God began to pop, breaking apart into lumps that faded away into a red light. A similarly-coloured energy now clouded Gaius’ left hand, drawing over the small motes of red the bursting eyeballs had released.

Withdrawing his left hand from the broken chest of the Human God, Gaius placed it on his own. The red tunnelled into his chest, spreading across the small disc above his heart, the product of having assimilated so many Engines. Even though it was covered by a layer of skin and flesh, Gaius could feel it transforming.

He looked up at the Human God, whose shredded form was staring at him. A profound air of death surrounded the Preserver, whose form had returned to his golden, soul-like body. The raging power that had surrounded the Preserver had been extracted by Gaius, leaving an unmoving, gaunt figure behind.

Dispersing the thick barrier that had surrounded them both, Gaius looked at the dying great god directly. “Why? What was the point of all this?”

The others flew over, surrounding the unmoving Human God in silence. Everyone had heard his quiet question, and they were now staring at Anren in silence, waiting for the answer.

“You…”

Anren looked at Gaius, and with a small jolt, Gaius saw clarity in his golden eyes. The golden light in them carried a hint of purity, reminding him of the time when he’d taken out the Human God’s familiar spirit. Of course, the circumstances then and now were worlds apart, but some things didn’t seem to change.

The golden radiance that had covered his form up until now abruptly winked out, revealing a man with gold hair. Huge chunks of his body — his soul — were missing, and there was a palm-shaped scar in the middle of his chest. Whatever armour he had left was dented and broken, but the great god’s mind was…complete once more.

“It has been a long time since I felt this…unburdened,” said the Human God. “At some point, my focus on the war to come consumed everything else I had.”

Gaius, along with everyone else, listened quietly. Even a radiant shadow, one dyed in the colours of the Worldshaper, had arrived. The Worldshaper wasn’t alone either; Aldnath was flying around their little group. And far below, in the residential areas of Elysium, were countless people, each and every one of them staring up into the skies above.

“When I felt what the Oblivion Portal had to offer, I saw hope,” the Human God continued. “Hope that I could regain my strength, to return everything to its origin. But now, I can see what my actions truly were. What everything I’ve done, in the name of all life, was nothing but madness.”

“Madness. Yes.” Pinnacle Kolya spoke. “Funny, isn’t it? When we all just want the same thing, but end up taking opposing paths.”

“For me, to even contemplate that my children would surpass their creator was madness.” The Human God watched his left arm crumble away. “I spent a hundred thousand years wondering why he attacked. And now, at the end of my life, I realise that it was my hubris. My inability to accept difference, that there were others who were like me.”

Time seemed to take a toll on him, but the Human God continued on, his voice now creaky and aged. “Back then, I drove him to desperation. It was fitting that he would do the same to me now.”

“What are you—”

“It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.” A sad smile surfaced onto his wrinkled face. “Just…what have I done?”

He turned to Kolya. “And how will history remember me?”

The Pinnacle took a step back, exchanging glances with the others and the great gods in attendance. “You’re…asking me?”

“Yes. Ruler of the Mortal Light Dynasty…a nation with an apt name.”

Kolya fell silent for a moment. “Yes. We serve to remind the gods that they do not define morality. That the values a god holds should be the same as that of a mortal.”

“Good…good.”

Gaius could feel an odd thrumming from the people watching, and from the rulers of the Western Holdings. It was an emotion made manifest, but before it could increase in strength, the Human God waved his withered right arm, and the build-up of emotions dispersed.

“Brother, you—”

“Sister…I do not have the right to leave anything behind. Let my legacy end here.”

“Even if it might help us in the war to come?” Rahwei asked, his gruff voice tinged with a hint of rebuke.

“My legacy is of little value, but my strength isn’t. Let it be focused on a single individual,” Anren replied. “Destiny weighs down on you. It will not atone for my deeds, but with it, you might be able to bear out a new world, a world free from me.”

With those words, he dug out a small golden orb from his chest and tossed it at Gaius. Before Gaius could react, the golden sphere had sunk into his chest, vanishing without a trace. Gaius knew that once he did some introspection, he would be able to locate that golden sphere, but this wasn’t the right time for that.

The golden star in the southern sky, one that was surrounded by three other stars, winked out a moment later. Gaius couldn’t help but connect the sudden disappearance of the Human God’s Divine Kingdom with the golden sphere he’d dug out.

After spending a moment or so to stare at the spot where the golden star used to be, the Human God turned to Pinnacle Kolya, the sad smile still on his face. “So? How will history remember me?”

All eyes turned to Pinnacle Kolya, who closed his eyes in response. “Nothing remains of the Human God, Anren. In a ruthless pursuit of power, the Preserver destroyed his own legacy of a hundred thousand years, ruined his reputation as a virtuous god and departed the world before the approach of an epoch-making war. His worshippers have all but died out, killed in a war. In the years to follow, he will be forgotten, a footnote in history. He will be a testament to gods now and forever, a warning about the dangers of divine hubris.”

Kolya exhaled out slowly.

“A good eulogy.” The Human God closed his eyes, his aged frame turning into ash. “May it guide others away from the mistakes I made.”

He let out a slow sigh, and whatever remained of his body blazed up with a golden radiance. “Lost Star, Gaius…I know this is hard, but can I ask you for a favour?”

Gaius stared at the great god who he had indirectly contended with for most of his life here, and then nodded slowly.

Pointing a glowing hand at his chest, the Human God bowed his crumbling head. “My familiar spirits…please, save them.”

Those words had evidently taken whatever power the Human God had left. His shimmering body broke apart into wisps of gold light, which winked out moments later. His words followed suit a minute later, leaving nothing but a memory behind and a sigh behind.

So died the Human God, the mastermind of the Second Extermination, his mad, corrupted ambitions felled by an alliance of gods and mortals alike.

[End of Book 10: Immortal Indignant]