190 The Eventide of Faith (1/2)

Not by a long shot.

Of this, there was no suspicion in the minds of those who recognized what was currently transpiring across the continent. But there was nothing they could do about it, not anymore even they had wanted to prevent it. The only they could do was wait...

There's a terrible somberness to it that I cannot describe, despite the loveliness of the melody... like the weeping cry of an angel.

To one of them, a dear friend who was brought up to be a shield for his country, the ever-present, ethereal hymn felt like the peaceful mourning of something once cherished. That alone was enough to make him worry about his precious friend, wherever he might be.

Compared to his other two companions, his interpretation was the closest to the truth because his mind was not preoccupied with any internal biases, a product of his focused, one-track mindset.

The music's not real; it can't be real! None of my tools are picking up anything at all! It's not here! But how?! How he is doing this?!

Another person, a respected healer and gifted scholar, felt a chill run down her spine as she listened to the soft chorus of heaven above. She was deeply disturbed by what she could not understand. The Infestation was one such aberration that could not be understood, which was why she feared them so much.

And now, that same fear had taken a new form... and it brought her great distress. She did not want this, not for that poor boy she knew. How much more could the world ask of him? It angered her greatly but there was nothing she could do, for it was a matter preordained by a power greater than of all them.

As the divine chorus began to grow more intense, another unexplainable phenomenon arose from the bottom of the earth. Titanic pillars of Anima shot up like overgrown sprouts towards the sky in very unique locations — the Sinkholes, the gateways to the Will of the World.

Where are you... What are you doing up there? Why do call for this heavenly song, beloved friend of mine? And are you well? Please, let me know...

The last one, a powerless prince without a reason for living, felt pain for the fact that he could not help his... friend in the slightest. He seethed over the fact their relationship had become unbalanced, vague, and painfully detached.

How he envied that woman so much! That she was chosen to be beside him, even though it was them had met him first. Even it was he who had seen his worth first!

Even though it was I the one who had met him first! The nerve of that thieving bitch!

Though it was a carefully concealed bitterness that he guarded since then, he had no doubts that she had instantly discerned the profound resentment in his eyes the instant they met again.

A million curses upon you, wretched temptress, for denying me the only thing I have ever desired!! And only for you to abandon him on the eve of his suffering!

It was a silent war for two people now with the death of the third participant three years ago... and it would continue until only one of them remained.

And he would have it no other way.

When the astronomical rivers of Anima in the sky reached a critical point, they condensed and fell back onto the land in the form of a special type of rain. Anything it touched was blessed with a mysterious, refreshing vitality that healed all wounds and illnesses.

To put it simply, it was a genuine panacea. Ambrosia, some might've even called it.

Even the living specter of a man who once ruled the East felt the supernatural effects of the raindrops when they landed on his face. Though his undying, time-frozen body did not heal itself, the spiritual degradation his soul had accumulated over millennia had begun to miraculously repair itself.

But that wasn't what surprised the old Avunian ruler. What had stopped his thoughts dead in his tracks was... the taste of the rain.

His body trembled when a couple of drops made their way onto lips and he, for the first time many, many years, wept atop a barren mountain range in the West.

Ahhhh... I know what this is. I wish I did not. Forgive me, my Goddess. I have failed him yet again...

It was sweeter than he could handle. Honey and sugar were bitter compared to the taste of the bountiful nectar that was falling upon Mulia en masse. They could not stand up to...

”...The essence of love. Nothing can surpass it in splendor and richness, for it is the blood of God,” said Velvund as he raised his arms upward toward the sky in an act of devoted exultation and immense grief.

”It's truly incredible... Is this the will of the Goddess, then?” said Alvana Nightfall, the Sacred Daughter of the Witch-Queen that ruled the West as a proxy for their Sovereign, the Queen of Shadows.

Velvund bitterly smiled and did not reply...

Alvana was a Chosen and was therefore exempt from the terrible infirmity that ailed her race, allowing her to walk unaided outside of her underground empire without a protective suit. It was a special privilege only Nuedo Chosen possessed, but few ever allowed themselves to indulge in that comfort.

But to them, it was the height of selfishness for them to enjoy the beautiful surface world unaided while their kin lived in their artificial, pressurized cities in the bowels of the earth.

Realizing the miraculous effects the rain possessed, she immediately called her mother and informed her of the situation. An opportunity that would likely never happen again had come and she had made the correct decision to summon everyone.

All of her people, every single person — young, old, mortal, chosen — to the surface.

A mass exodus had begun in the West as the Nuedo began to head out into the surface, seeking the blessing afforded by the rain. They would bask in it for as long as possible, all the while praying to whomever or whatever created the momentous blessing.

To the Goddess, to the very dirty stood upon, to the divine spirit that granted them this opportunity. They did not know, but they were endlessly grateful. In any case, their gratitude was directed upward toward the ever-changing sky.

Immense transformations were underfoot across Mulia in all shapes and aspects, both physical and spiritual. The Baptism of the Nuedo would just be one of the many historical events that would occur on this day.

Lightning crackled ferociously as it danced wildly in the ominous melange of churning thunderclouds that obstructed the sky. The deafening sound of rumbling thunder only served to support the unseen choir past the storm, though.

With each flash of hallowed brilliance and terrible echo it begat, a gradual feeling spread among those who were Chosen.

Their strength, their connection to Anima... had begun to diminish. They felt themselves grow humbler and respectful in abject terror as the global thunderstorm simmered with a fury that could only be described as apocalyptic.

No longer were they the demigods of Mulia, at the very least, not at the moment. They had all been grounded and made mortal once more, reminded of where they had all come from...

Warning! Warning! Level ZERO priority threat detected! Code Designation: 000—Undefined

Deep below, in a guarded fortress of lies and secrets, a monstrous abomination of fused souls and ambitions shuddered in pure fear as it writhed inside of its disgusting container.

Alert: Unidentified high-energy field expanding over District 3-Sector 25! Connection lost!

Alert: Unidentified high-energy field expanding over District 2-Sector 14...