Death: Genesis

Mana swirled all around him, but Zeke barely paid it any mind. Instead, he focused entirely on the task at hand, because anything less would result in disaster. He had created some complex skills before, but none of them came close to what he had planned for his latest creation.

Which was odd, because the skill itself wasn’t meant to be complex. Indeed, it was the height of simplicity. Yet, getting to that result required more than just a sturdy foundation. It was an expression of Will, combined with his attunements, and with an absolutely ridiculous cost that would strain even Zeke’s massive power.

To get to that point without the entire thing unraveling and backfiring, the underlying structure had to be airtight and flawless. Any mistakes wouldn’t just result in a corrupted skill. It was more than just not working, too. If he made the wrong moves, there was every chance that the skill’s destructive potential would tear him to pieces in a way that made it impossible to piece himself back together.

The stakes of his skill-crafting had never been higher. He was poised on the edge of knife where the slightest stumble would send him tumbling into the abyss.

And Zeke loved it.

For a long time, Zeke had acknowledged that he was something of an adrenaline junkie. Normally, that trait presented itself in his propensity throw himself into battle against increasingly powerful opponents. Yet, the dangers inherent in his current endeavor satisfied that quest, and well enough to garner his full and undivided attention.

Zeke drew one glyph after another, solidifying various runes and building the structure of his latest skill with perfect precision. Nothing was out of place, because if he made a single mistake, everything would explode.

He took concepts from his other skills, but mostly, he’d taken inspiration from [Aura of Desolation] and the way it wove his Will into the expression of the skill. It was a tentative balance, but the skill acted as something of a buffer between him and the Path of Arcane Destruction. Raw, anything more than a trickle of his Will was enough to break his body down. His efforts at inoculation were ongoing, but it was a long process, and one Zeke suspected wouldn’t be complete until he reached the peak of the realm.

However, within the structure of the skill, its effect on his body and mind was vastly diminished, to the point where he could endure it indefinitely. Or for as long as he could provide mana to [Aura of Desolation], at least. That had given him the idea – and the blueprint – to incorporate that into his latest skill.

There were elements of other concepts in there as well. Chiefly, [Hell Geyser] and [Unleash Momentum], but with bits of [Center of Gravity] in there, too. It was to be a chimera of a skill held together by ideas Zeke wasn’t even certain were valid. He thought they were, and his instincts seemed to confirm that. But in a lot of ways, Zeke was flying by the seat of his pants.

And there were innumerable ways it could go wrong.

He didn’t think about that, though. Instead, he focused entirely on his work, and to the point where he didn’t even notice his surroundings. Nor did he mark the passage of time. His entire existence revolved around the creation of his new skill.

Finally, after what felt like a timeless eternity, Zeke formed the very last glyph, and the skill solidified. He watched with his inner eye as mana and Will infused the rune, and at last, he felt the sprawling structure bloom into being across his chest. But it didn’t stop there. Instead, it dipped into his soul and into that ephemeral store of Will that governed his Path of Arcane Destruction.

None of that would be visible to the naked eye, but to Zeke’s senses, it was like a wildfire of mana, will, and something he could only barely perceive.

It was then that Eveline finally spoke, “That’s divinity. Congratulations.”

Zeke didn’t respond. Instead, he looked at the Framework notification that suddenly appeared before his eyes:

Congratulations! You have constructed your fourth skill, [Wrath of Annihilation].

“That’s an ominous name,” Eveline said. “Fitting, I suppose, given what you intended.”

A new notification flashed:

[Wrath of Annihilation] (C) – Your Will is indomitable and divine. Your path, one of pure destruction. You are an avatar of annihilation. Harness your very essence to destroy anything that stands in your way. Upgradeable.

“I guess it worked?” Zeke wondered. He could feel the power contained in the skill, and the description certainly seemed worthy of his plans. Yet, it was also vague enough that he had no idea how it might manifest. Originally, the plan had been to simply toss a ball of destruction composed of his Will and Hellfire at an enemy. Yet, it felt like the result was a fair bit more potent than he’d ever intended.

“You should focus on the description,” Eveline said. “Those words weren’t chosen randomly.”

“I need to try this out,” Zeke said, finally opening his eyes and letting his senses return. When he did, he realized just how much time had passed – largely because of the smell. When he was in a meditative trance, he didn’t feel the call of nature – fortunately – but that state apparently didn’t stop him from sweating. As a result he smelled like a high school locker room in the middle of football season. “First, I think I need to get cleaned up.”

After that, Zeke did just that, taking a long, hot shower before taking a little time for self-grooming. Looking into his bathroom mirror, he could acknowledge that he needed to do something about his long hair and wild beard, but he was only capable of so much. Not for the first time, the idea of cultivating a barber passed through his mind. It was one more thing on his list.

“How long do you think?” he asked Eveline.

“At least two weeks. Maybe as much as a month,” she answered. “It was a complex skill.”

“Yeah. Is everything okay?” he asked. “No crises?”

“I would have told you if there were,” she responded. “The Knights of Adontis remain huddled in their fortress, so our forces have been free to do whatever they wanted to do without much in the way of resistance. Three cities have fallen, and there are two more that should topple soon enough.”

“And they’re just letting us do it?”

“So it seems. There have been a few counterattacks, but they’ve been mostly ineffective.”

“How many?”

“A little less than two-thousand casualties among our people,” she stated.

That tied Zeke’s stomach into knots, but he didn’t need Eveline to tell him that wars inevitably brought casualties with them. Still, it wasn’t easy to accept, especially when he’d been holed up in his manor. That had been the biggest issue with his recent quest for progression. It had been efficient and effective, but there were people out here depending on him to be present. And when he wasn’t, people died.

It made him feel selfish in all the worst ways.

“Bad enough that I had to spend so long in that dungeon,” he muttered, raking his fingers through his hair. “But then a month building a skill? I feel like I abandoned them all.”

“It’s better in the long run.”

“I know. But knowing that doesn’t make it easier,” he said with a sigh.

But he’d made his choices. It was done. Now, he could only hope that it was worth it. So, with that in mind, Zeke left his manor behind and left the tower. He didn’t dare use his new skill with anyone else around, because he had no idea how dangerous it could be. So, he used [Triune Colossus], then set off across the Mukti Plains. He kept going for a few dozen miles, his long legs and high stats propelling him forward at the speed of a car cruising on the highway, until he reached a spot that seemed deserted.

His first order of business was to test out Voromir’s evolution, so with a flick of his mind, a blood-red version of the hammer superimposed over the physical version. Then, Zeke swept it out, sending that copy spinning across the plains. He kept going, rapidly swinging a hundred times, all in a row. Each swing sent another copy twirling horizontally for around fifty yards before it dissipated. But after the hundredth, the copy winked out, and Zeke got the feeling that it would take about an hour for it to completely recharge.

“Not bad,” he said. He’d tested it a few other times, but he’d never pushed the hammer’s new ability to its limit. Now that he had, he was even more impressed with what it could do. “Do you think the number is tied to my stats? Or do you think it’s based on the hammer’s evolution?”

“The latter,” Eveline said. “You didn’t feel any drain on your mana, did you?”

“You know I didn’t.”

“Well, there you have it, then. Now, let’s test out this new skill.”

“You sound extremely eager,” Zeke remarked.

“Because I am. I’ve never seen a divine skill before,” she admitted. “I’ve only heard of a few, and…well, I don’t think I need to tell you that most aren’t acquired before level seventy-five. Even after, it’s rare.”

“I’m aware,” Zeke said. She’d gone on and on about sparks and divinity more than he cared to acknowledge. So far, it was all just conjecture, and he’d begun to wonder if her assertions were even accurate. But now that the word had shown up in his skill’s description, he had to admit that the chances of her having been telling the truth were a lot higher.

“Wow. I don’t think you could’ve insulted me more if you tried,” Eveline said. “I’m completely trustworthy.”

“You’re a literal demon.”

“You have no room to talk, half-demon,” she pointed out.

Zeke sighed. “Fair enough. Guess there’s no point in delaying. Here goes nothing.”

Then, Zeke embraced his latest skill. The moment he flooded it with mana, he felt a pull that he’d never experienced, and in three directions. The first latched onto his mana, which he’d expected. Every skill did that to some degree or another. What he hadn’t anticipated, though, was how strong the current was. It ruthlessly yanked the mana out of him, and in a huge torrent that seemed entirely inexhaustible.

As distressing as that was, what was even more troubling was the expression of his Path of Arcane Destruction tearing free of his mind. Normally, he kept it to a trickle, but this was a raging river. Fortunately, the foundations of his skill protected his body from that corrosive energy. Otherwise, he would have broken down in seconds.

Finally, he felt something else tugging free of his soul, and when it left, he felt the loss more keenly than he’d ever felt anything before. Before, he hadn’t even been aware of it, but in its absence, he was alternatively afraid, distressed, and panicked.

“That is the divinity,” pointed out Eveline. Zeke didn’t need her input. He’d known it from the second he’d felt it. But until that moment, he hadn’t truly felt that the spark of divinity was nearly as important as Eveline had intimated. Now, though? If anything, Zeke thought she’d been underselling it. That spark, small though it was compared to the other rivers of energy flowing through him, was so integral to who he was that its loss left him feeling bereft and listless.

Still, Zeke pushed through it, guiding the skill to a spot a few hundred yards away.

It was not enough.

The moment he released the skill, a black sun wreathed in a corona of white flame bloomed into being a half mile above the plains. The mere sight of it was enough to send thoughts of doom spinning through Zeke’s mind.

But that was only the beginning.

As soon as it manifested, the sun began to spin, sending out arcs of white flame in every direction. Then, Zeke felt the pull.

Mana.

Will.

The underlying structure of the universe was inexorably yanked into that sun. It swallowed it greedily, and for a few seconds, Zeke thought the world was going to end. Then, everything went quiet.

“Was that it? I thought –”

An explosion of white fire and black destruction cut Eveline off. Zeke only had a brief instant to see the expression of his skill before he was thrown backwards.

Not a few hundred feet.

Not even a few thousand.

For miles, he flew until he hit the ground, and over the course of a thousand more yards, tumbled across the plain until he finally came to a stop. The physical toll of his flight wasn’t concerning. However, he’d briefly felt the touch of his skill, and he knew without a doubt that if he hadn’t already been inoculated – at least to some degree – against his own Will, he would have been destroyed.

Even after everything he’d done to accustom himself to its power, he felt like he was on the verge of being unmade.

It passed quickly as his body adjusted, but in the wake of that feeling, Zeke knew that if it weren’t for his various advantages – as well as his efforts at inoculation – he would have been ripped to pieces right down to the last atom.

“Eveline?”

There was only silence.

“Eveline?!” he shouted in his own mind.

Still, there was no response. A sinking feeling swept through Zeke’s mind as he searched for her. But there was only absence. A great void where she’d once been.

He continued to shout for her, but there remained no response. As desperation gripped him, Zeke picked himself up. And that’s when he saw the devastation his skill had wrought. A few hundred yards away, there was nothing but a massive crater. In a daze, he staggered forward, and with every step, he felt the area’s ambient mana dissipate until, by the time he reached the edge of the crater, it was almost nonexistent.

He could feel mana rushing back in to fill the void, but it did nothing to address the absence in his mind.

Zeke fell to his knees and asked, “What have I done?”

For the first time in a long time, there was no one to offer an answer.