The gladiator was sweating all over his body and knelt down almost unnoticed, trembling, when he saw the figure standing towards his office. "Exalted one!" He spoke reverently and almost stumbled over his own words, his head already pressed forehead-first onto the cold floor.

Maxim had understood immediately after the first visit of this person what would be at stake. Not only his body, or his family, or any ties he had, but also his soul was in danger if he did not obey this powerful figure to the last.

"All is well, Maxim. Rise." Laughed the person in front of him humorously and sat down in the guests' chair without much fuss, quite the opposite of what Maxim would have expected from such a powerful being. With the crooks of his arms resting on his upper legs, his right hand forming a fist and his left clasping it, Maxim's guest rested his chin on his hands and looked at him piercingly but with mischievousness in his eyes.

"Good, good." Spoke the being, who sat before him in the form of a stately muscular body and black gladiator armor adorned with gold, as Maxim dropped powerlessly but slightly cramped into his own chair more. "Is everything otherwise prepared? No one noticed anything?" The arena master was asked the now serious question, to which he only nodded his head several times, careful not to look his opposite in the eyes.

"Yes, exalted one! Everything will happen as you have asked. Our newest addition will, just as you commanded, make the ascent after a period of acclimatization!" Beads of sweat slowly dripped down Maxim's forehead, and a particularly treacherous bead of sweat, which he inwardly cursed, was just beginning to drip from his right eyebrow down onto the table.

"Very good, as promised, here's the first reward. Let's see how our... guest is going to do!" And with a laughing echo, a strong wind blew through the room, a wind that smelled of blood, tasted of the wide plains, and made the fog of war creep over all present.

Maxim blinked several times, and second after second passed, until after a few minutes he finally raised his head, still trembling slightly, and dared to stare at the almost empty seat opposite.

Where his guest had sat before, nothing was left but a fist-sized pearl glowing in all the colors of the rainbow. Maxim carefully crept around his desk, still careful not to make a sound, and reverently picked up the pearl. "Crystallized essence..." He breathed reverently and gently stroked his right thumb over the infinitely smooth surface, which contained the magical essence of thousands of dungeon monsters.

Only in legends and myths, around which many legends were told and about whose existence experts argued, the crystallized essence of dungeons had ever been mentioned. An essence that, when activated, could infuse the person with the experience and essence of thousands of defeated monsters.

And now he had such an essence in his own hands. Maxim's hands trembled, but this time in awe of such concentrated power. "Finally, the breakthrough to gold... Finally..." He whispered to himself, and with a mental command, iridescent rainbow threads released from the pearl between his hands and flowed into his hands in an ecstasy of power. The pearl grew smaller and smaller, while the scarred hands that held it grew younger and stronger, and more and more of the scars slowly faded until only a few remained.

Where before had stood a sixty year old and experienced gladiator with the marks of countless battles, now stood a thirty year old in the prime of his time, hardened in war and battle, looking down in wonder and amazement at his hands, which he turned in fascination and clenched into fists, only to open them again immediately. "Incredible..." Maxim breathed again, and looked down at the floor in front of him, as if he could see through the stone floors and walls of the colloseum, directly at the head of a strange silver-haired man, who was standing with his back to the steel cell bars, getting to know his blood companions for the first time.

"Who the hell are you?" He whispered one last time, and abruptly turned around to make sure that everything promised would actually be carried out.

A few hours earlier...

"Are you sure that's him?" whispered an unpromising voice in a dark, veiled tone to the slightly whimpering figure at his side, who bowed slightly to him and trembled.

"Yes, master. The blights hand has personally sent us a messenger!"

The black figure, leaning against the front of the house, just rumbled and stared at the passing caravan of fresh slaves. His gaze stared and pierced one person in particular, who was looking around calculatingly, his silvery golden hair blowing and moving slightly in the wind of the dirty streets. Briefly, the gazes of both people seemed to meet, but after less than a heartbeat, the gaze of the strange slave continued to glide over the people and his new surroundings.

"He doesn't seem particularly strong to me, though.... His gaze knows death, but his hands do not..." The black-clad person with the hood pulled deep into his forehead stated with an amused and evil smile. The person next to him, still bent over, shivered again.

"But well... If the Blights hands will it so, it will be so." He whispered in dark promise as the wagon with the strange slave was pulled on out of sight.

A silver coin shimmered in the air, and the trembling figure snatched it greedily from the air as the shadow took a step and disappeared.

A relieved sigh of breath could be heard and the beggar quickly retreated into one of the many branching side alleys, doing his best to get away as quickly as possible.

A woman and a man sat at a white and gold round table, gazing down with amusement at the circular map on which millions upon millions of creatures were moving, all kept in view with a single glance from these two powers.

"When was the last time we watched with rapt attention what was happening on one of our creations, dear husband?" Spoke the woman in a honeyed voice, full of promise, and subsequent destruction, in a preternaturally dark yet feminine voice to her opposite, who looked down smiling at the permanently moving world map.

A short second, or whole eons, passed until the being sitting opposite lifted his head and smiled at her. "It has indeed... a while ago." He whispered back, or perhaps his voice thundered through space and time. "It will come to pass... and oh what time it will be again, that finally a spark will arise again. A spark, oh wife. A spark of destruction, and of a new beginning. A cleansing fire of a new dawn and the annihilation of the long gone. What will he do at the infinite crossroads of his decisions?"

And with these words, more silent than spoken, both beings, more powers than persons, stared down at the table again. On the table, on which a living world map was to be seen, and which resembled more a game board, than a simple world map.

And behind all this, infinite galaxies passed in the background of the two, black holes were born and in the eleventh breath others died. Planets were born and ceased to exist.

A wind so annihilating and so invigorating as no one could imagine, not even the divine beings of this world, passed over the continents and every being powerful enough to have even imagined the limits of the mortal realm, paid attention and listened to the wind of change that blew over Eos.