Hineni and Eilig stand surrounded by darkness, the sky above their heads clashing with the strike of thunder. Both of them look up, watching arcs of energy come to form, only to meet in the center in a series of violent explosions.

The darkness above their heads is filled with glowing yellow dots, as if they were the stars in the night-sky. Thousands, millions of them span from here to there, watching the fight, watching him.

They are eyes.

— The walls of the illusion begin to come together, forming the hallways, walls, and rooms of a house.

“Eilig,” asks Hineni, looking at Obscura’s yellow glowing eyes that fill the rupturing void. “What the hell is she?”

“Fucked in the head.”

“Eilig,” snaps Hineni.

The fairy rolls her eyes. “You know how gods get their power?” asks the fairy.

Hineni nods. “From their worshipers and the people who believe in them,” he says.

“Right,” replies the fairy, as the restaurant from the bottom of the old house builds itself together, tables flying out of the void to set themselves up. “That’s also how gods are made. People believe in some weird, kooky bullshit, and all of that spiritual energy collects together into a big, messy ball of power that hoots and eats frogs.” She points to the window, outside of which a new darkness hangs, the darkness of a fake night, rather than that of the total void. “People believe in an owl-god. So there’s an owl-god. Magic.”

“Sure,” replies Hineni, stepping to the side as a silhouette emerges from nothing and a full person is created in the illusion. Some random adventurer who is visiting the guild condenses together out of particulate, piece by piece, until they are whole of body and going about their business.

Others start to form too.

“Yeah, well it’s like how the mushroom goddess is also the fertility goddess?” asks Eilig. Hineni nods. He recalls having a talk about exactly this topic once with Seltsam and then later with Obscura.

“Because mushrooms look like dicks?” asks Hineni.

“You got it, big guy,” replies Eilig. “It’s a stupid system, but that’s how it is because people are stupid. People think that mushrooms look like junk, so they think it’s related to fertility. Presto bango, mushrooms and fertility are connected and so, the mushroom goddess gets that load on her shoulders too.” Hineni snorts. “— Metaphorically speaking,” says Eilig, elbowing him. “Gross.”

A waitress walks past them, carrying several trays.

“What does this have to do with Obscura, then?” asks Hineni.

“What do you associate owls with?” asks Eilig.

Hineni thinks for a moment, watching as his step-mother and step-father walk by. “The night?” he asks.

“The night,” repeats Eilig. “Darkness.” She shrugs. “Just like mushrooms and fertility go together, owls and the night are locked together too.”

“What about bats?”

“Bats suck,” replies Eilig. “They don’t make any noises and they’re never around, so people didn’t worship them as much as owls,” explains the fairy. “But you live in a village by the dark forest, what do you think you hear all night?” she asks. “It sure isn’t bats.”

“Hooting,” replies Hineni.

“Hooting,” repeats Eilig. “Congratulations. You’re engaged to the feathery embodiment of eternal darkness,” says the fairy, shaking her head.

“Eh, could be worse,” replies Hineni.

Eilig sighs. “You say that, but…”

— A child protests next to them. Hineni turns to look at his own younger self, having been pulled to the side by his step parents.

“It will only be for a little while, Nini,” says his mother. “I promise.”

“No!” argues the boy, hitting his mother’s hand away.

A hand grabs the child, yanking him to the side. “Boy. You behave,” says Hineni’s step-father, striking him. “Listen to your mother. Pack your things.”

The scene goes dark.

“Good old Dad,” says Hineni.

“Like I said,” begins Eilig. “I don’t agree with his methods. But the man loved you.”

“Yeah…” says Hineni. “I saw that in the other life, the one that Nekyia showed me.” Hineni sighs as the scene changes. “What was that?”

“That was the same thing,” replies Eilig. “Just another direction. Exactly what the owl-god did to you, and what it did to you long before that, she did too.”

“Do they know?” asks Hineni, looking up at the sky where the frog and the owl gods are fighting. “About… where we really are?”

Eilig purses her lips and blows out some air. “Tough question. The owl maybe, because she covered up the five-thing. The frog, though… I don’t think so, which is actually pretty damn funny if you ask me.” Her wings buzz next to his ear. “Here the two of them are, fighting to change reality to make you fit into their individual vision of it, but the idiots might not even know that the whole foundation beneath their feet is already shaped.” She shakes her head. “They’re changing reality inside of someone’s already changed reality.”

He looks at her for a moment before returning his gaze to the darkness. “Why are gods like this?” asks Hineni. “Why can’t they just… let life happen?”

“What can I say?” begins Eilig. “The ways we’re born and raised affect our view of the world.”

A waitress walks out of the darkness. Hineni blinks, looking at her. “Kleidet?” he asks, recognizing his own employee, the dark-elf from the other guild.

“Not real,” says Eilig. “This is just all part of the big spiel.”

More boots come from the side. Hineni turns his head, looking at their ever-silent doorman, Irit.

“Not real?” asks Hineni.

“Not real,” says Eilig. “He’s fucky though, I’ve been keeping an eye on him.”

— Metal clamors behind them, the sound of falling pots and pans raining down, as two people walk in. They are the cooks from the old house, Lutz and Leicht.

“Let me guess,” says Hineni.

Eilig nods. “Go for it. Your big sister believes in you!”

“Not real?” asks Hineni.

Eilig’s wings buzz, and she leans to the side, hugging the side of his face. “Congratulations!”

“Nice… well, no… not really.” Hineni looks at the faces around him. “So… do they even exist? Down below, in the real reality?” he asks. “Or are they just… shadows, just people that exist to fill this very specific mistake in the system?” he asks, looking at the note in his hands.

“You sure do ask a lot of questions,” replies Eilig. “Hell if I know. Maybe. Maybe not. I think they’re just here for their names, honestly.” The fairy lifts her hand. Ice gathers around it. An instant later, jagged shards fly around, cutting through all four of the illusionary people who had approached. They vanish into vapors, like dispelled shadows.

“Ah, hell,” says Hineni. “Then what about…”

“— Ah, e- excuse me!” calls a voice from the side. “EXCUSE ME!” repeats Seltsam, speaking far too loudly. The two of them turn to look, as a wall forms out of the darkness that an entity hides behind. “P- please don’t kill me. I have to finish sorting the ‘H’ section.”

“— Seltsam,” says Hineni. “Eilig. If these names are right,” he asks, pointing at the sheet of paper in his hand. “Then… how do we know that any of us are real? How do we know that you and I even exist for real in the real-real world?”

“We don’t know that,” replies Eilig. “But what the hell else are we gonna do?” she asks. “I’m tired of watching you smooch a bird, and we’re stuck here now.”

“If this is the alternative,” says Hineni. “I think I made the right call.”

“That’s because you’re dumb,” replies Eilig. “Don’t worry. That’s why I’m here to look out for you.”

Hineni nods. “Maybe we should look around the forest while we’re here in the south, Eilig,” suggests the man Hineni. “We’ll find you a nice fairy to date.” — Eilig seems to be biting his cheek. “That’s a no?”

The scene changes.

“Ah, I think this is it,” says Eilig, pulling back and looking around the area.

Hineni exhales, looking around as the room comes together. “DON’T LOOK!” yells a voice from the side. The fake Seltsam. A person runs over, scrambling in between the newly rising walls, before she’s closed out on the other side. Hineni, out of politeness, doesn’t look as she scrambles behind his back, her fingers clutching the back of his shirt.

“What’s the matter?” asks Hineni, watching the room come together. “Afraid of not-existing?”

“I- I don’t want to be alone again!” exclaims Seltsam.

“Oh… fair,” replies Hineni. “You’re good here, Seltsam. Even if you aren’t the real one,” he says, lifting a hand over his other shoulder to pat the fingers clutching his back.

The room comes together once more, taking the shape of the restaurant in the old adventurers’ guild, but now at a different hour.

— Hineni feels something tugging on the note in his hand from behind, and he lets go, letting Seltsam take it.

“Oh… oh yeah, that makes sense,” says the librarian, reading what’s written on it. “But… huh, weird. I mean, I could have told you about this from the get-go,” she says. “If you asked me.”

“What?” asks Hineni.

“Sure, sure,” she replies, giving him the note back. “Don’t you remember?” asks the librarian. “I told you a bunch of times that somebody came by the library, wanting five pages transcribed on extinct animals.” She shakes her head. “They all got outbred by anqas and after the god of their species disappeared… they just kind of… vanished, you know?”

The room is finished.

Hineni as a child, with his step-parents on either side of him, holding a hand on each of his shoulders, all stand and wait by the front door. The young boy sniffles, doing his best to maintain a strong, stiff posture. His father pats him on the shoulder in approval.

There is a knock on the front door.

The man and the woman look at each other and nod.

“Hineni,” says his father. “You behave and you do exactly as you were told. ”

The boy sniffles and nods, his step-mother leaning down against him to hold her lips to the top of his head, closing her eyes, kissing him goodbye and imparting the smell of the large, extravagant water-lily that she’s wearing onto his senses. “It won’t be long. I promise, Nini,” she says. “We’ll visit you very soon.”

His step-father walks to the door.

The real Hineni exhales, feeling Eilig holding a hand against his cheek. “You good?” asks the fairy.

“I’m okay,” replies Hineni as he looks at the sheet of paper one final time. “When does it happen?”

His father opens the door.

“Now,” replies Eilig.

— Red ash, mixed with heat and blood, sprays everywhere as the man by the door is blasted away by powerful magic, leaving nothing behind except red snow that fills the room.

His mother screams, pulling him back and running to the door that opens wide.

— She vanishes right before his eyes as the ash magic hits her next.

The young child screams, falling down and crawling back, bloody ashes sticking to the floor and to his face. Pieces of his disintegrated mother and father are stuck in his eyes and his mouth.

Thunderous, loud, crashing steps come into the house as a monstrous, gigantic silhouette blocks out the night beyond the door.

The boy screams as a large, hairy creature with a horrifically long face and wide eyes, like a minotaur twisted and grown wrong, looks at him, its head towering above the door-frame as it steps inside on hooved legs.

The sheet of paper in Hineni’s hand crumples, his fingers clenching tightly shut as he stares at the image of the thing — the monster that killed his parents, the revelation that has been visible from day one, if one knew where to look.

– The god down at the base, lowest manipulation of their current reality.

H - ineni

O - bscura

R - hine

S - ockel

E - ilig

K - leidet

I - rit

L - utz

L - eicht

S - eltsam

It moves towards him.

The boy covers his face and screams, and the room fills with smoldering ash, consuming both the boy and the horse-god as Hineni of the past uses his magical powers for the first real time in his life.

“I don’t understand,” says the real Hineni. “Why did you always say it was my fault, Eilig?” he asks, smoldering ash flying past them as a torrential storm rages all around the room. “Their deaths.”

A hand rubs his cheek. “Sorry. That was part of the owl’s illusion to cover up the number five,” says Eilig. “I forgot about what five really was, so I forgot the horse. That only left you for me to blame for this,” she says. “I really thought it was you,” explains the fairy. “I’m sorry.”

Hineni stares into the ash-storm that fills the house, watching the blue glimmer surrounding the core of it. Ice constantly surrounds the boy there, regrowing over and over inside the inferno to keep him safe. Layers of it peel away, melting, only for new, fresh magic to come back in order to safe-keep the thing nested inside of the ice. The fairy of the past uses all of her magic to keep him as safe as she can in the ash-storm, but at a price, as she herself burns and vanishes away into dust, destined to lie in death until the magic of the house, restored, could pull her back from slumber.

“No,” says Hineni, shaking his head. “Thank you for becoming my sister, even if you thought that,” says the man as the ash fades. He holds a hand to the side, gently holding her as he presses his face against her.

“Okay. Rein it in,” says Eilig,” trying to push his palm away.

The woman, the fairy, the man, and the horse — all of them are gone.

Only a severely burned boy lays there on the ground; smoldering fires are beginning to burn through the house. The child flops over, spent.

“That’s what I was saying,” says Seltsam, from behind him. “The ‘H’ section stuff I mentioned a few times. The five pages of an extinct animal. There were a ton of hints.”

“Eh, whatever. Good,” says Hineni, looking at the bones of the horse-god. “You know what? Fuck horses. I’d do it again, too, if I had to. Some species deserve to go extinct.”

The scene fades, and the three of them stand there. Hineni breathes deeply and then lets it out. “Well… hell… That explains a lot, but… what happens next?” he asks. “Where did I go after this, if the orphanage wasn’t real?”

“To your dad’s place,” replies Eilig, on his shoulder.

“What?” asks Hineni. “Didn’t kid-me just kill him? He was the horse, right?”

“Are you stupid?” asks Eilig, looking at him. “That wasn’t him. Do you think that you resemble a horse? Idiot.”

Hineni shrugs. “I mean… you know… in a very specific way, I-”

Eilig covers her ears. “— SHUT UP! LALALA -LA!” yells Eilig. “Gross!” Seltsam giggles behind them.

“Just saying,” replies Hineni, shrugging. “Besides, not like you didn’t know that, since you’re always watching me.”

Eilig sways a small hand against his face. “That was the hired goon. The horse-god was just its version of Sockel.”

“Then… wait. Who’s my dad?” asks Hineni, as the world around them begins to whisper, and then it begins to howl. Shadows shift and churn, swirling like stormy waters as the darkness begins to mourn. Cold, distant whispers come to reach his ears, flowing past him like the graceful touches of every person he has ever lost, stroking a hand over him once in passing as they move, ushered towards the ghostly throne that emerges.

“Ah, FUCK ME!” yells Hineni in tired exasperation as he sees the manifestation come into form.

Seltsam shrieks from behind him. “Ah, no. I’m sorry, Seltsam,” apologizes Hineni for swearing. He knows that she hates swearing, given her nature. “This was sort of a thing just now, you know?”

“I— I understand,” replies the voice behind him, gripping his shirt. “That magical blood would explain at least why you didn’t get frozen when you saw me that one time in the library, right? HAHA!” she laughs, far too loudly.

“…Yeah,” replies Hineni, looking up toward the god of death who comes into focus in the illusionary realm of the gods that he is inside of. A skeleton leans sideways over an old throne, raggedy clothes and rags covering its unmoving bones. Its face is hollow and empty, and it has no movements at all. It simply lies there, like a dead king of a forgotten empire, simply destined to decay on his throne for all eternity. “I thought I told you to send a goddamned letter next time!” says Hineni.

“Hineni…” whispers the god in the distance.

“What?!” asks Hineni, holding his arms out to his side. “Really great by the way. It’s not like we didn’t already meet once,” says the man. “Coulda just told me you gave my mom the old midnight-mamba and that I was being mind-controlled in a false god-damned reality!”

“P- please stop swearing…” says a voice from behind him.

Hineni stops and then exhales. “Sorry, Seltsam,” he apologizes again. “It’s kind of a moment for me, you know?” He looks back towards the god of death. “What is this?” asks Hineni. “What is all of this?”

The world around them falls into shape, taking the form of a great, cold temple, with massive pillars that rise up the sky — all hewn out of a loveless, oddly blueish green stone.

“War, Weaponsmith Hineni, Chosen of the Owl-God,” says the god of death, laughing. “It has always been about war, child of mine.”