The Last Candle-light

With lungs that burn for air, I roll myself onto my back, opening my mouth for the precious tangy taste of what I need most. Dark ichor flows along my extremities as the hints of chromatic chains vanish from Maxemista in their entirety.

It's dead after nearly half an hour of cutting at the regrowing flesh. Finally!

A sweat-drenched swordsman without arms collapses beside me, his own body shivering from a variety of ailments. Yet, we are alive. Unfortunately, Lily was unable to take God of Forest's Sigil or soul for advancement. However, she does seem to have grown stronger.

It appears she is much like a Dominion, growing slowly but steadily until they reach a God's footprints.

"We did it."

The breath leaves my lungs as I heave for more, every inch of my existence aching for rest. Lennon Hull nods his head forward minorly, agreeing with me. Though, the man quickly slips out of wakefulness, delving into dreamland.

I watch his eyelids fall over his pupils. His armless body rolls off the portion of the corpse he was using for leverage and hits the blood-soaked earth.

A short laugh exits my throat. Then it freezes in its place as I sense Maxemista's soul... crystalizing into something in his corpse. Squinting at it, I'm confused for several moments before the answer pops out to me.

An artifact! No... a Divinity!

I'd almost forgotten about their usefulness, seeing as Motherbound rarely leave behind artifacts, and when they do... they are commonly corrupted, much like Ray Olive, the Angel Johnny killed long ago before we went to Bent. We waited weeks, even months, for an Arca, and when it finally came out, being a finger, it was so badly corrupted that just touching it spread Darklight.

And since I gained my Dominion... I haven't acquired another Arca. I'd probably be able to clear them of the corruption. But a Divinity...

No, I'm getting ahead of myself. There is something far more important than getting a Divinity.

Crawling forward, I inch my way toward the part of the butchered God's corpse to where the soul and Sigil are condensing. Up and over gore, I land at a particularly long strand of hair, white hair, to be exact.

"Buddy?"

I croak out a call to my partner, and despite his tiredness, he answers. Excitement manages to pierce through the haze of slumber he so desperately desires. It's time.

"Yeah? Is... is it time?"

"Yeah. It's time. Take their Sigil."

Extending my left palm, I feel Blodwyn shift within my chest, tendrils of flesh uncoiling along my veins before broaching the skin—the needles of crimson muscle stab into the oversized strand of hair. Then... then I wait, practically vibrating in place.

A God. He's going to become a God! With that... we won't have to worry anymore! We'll be so—

"Wyatt..."

"Go ahead! Don't worry about me!"

Figuring he's worried about me being left behind or some other concern, I encourage him. But as his voice reappears in my head with hesitation and fear, I realize something isn't right.

"Uhm... There isn't a Sigil. There is just a soul. There... there is nothing for me to take. I... I can't do it."

My whole world crashes as I feel more lightheaded than before. The faux sky spins and warps, leaving all more bewildering than a second ago. Raising a hand to my head, I don't know what to think.

"What do you mean? There isn't a Sigil? How is that possible!? Are you telling me that God didn't have a Sigil!? That's... that's not possible!"

Blodwyn stays silent as I can feel his depression, his self-loathing. He is angry at himself for this. He thinks it's his fault. No. No. No.

"This isn't your fault. Relax. There has to be an explanation. I... I sense a Dominion still within that soul. There... is... great power. It resists my probing even now while it forms into something... other. Wait..."

Gears turn in my head as an idea begins to bloom. At the 4th and 7th, grand changes occur, more so than at any other stage of growth for both the soul and body. That means the 'Tenth' is likely the same.

And... what bigger chance than completely erasing the separation of Sigil and soul? Even for me, I can tell that they are merged, but they are still separate. It is more accurate to say that the Sigil exists within the soul's 'waters' or 'aura' than they are integrated.

That means... there isn't a 10th Sigil. There are only nine.

That's... a massive change. There can be no proper balance of Sigils unless there is a trinity or a unity.

Or there is a 10th, and adding it causes this change. That's also possible. Yet something tells me that's not the case. If it were, would there ever be an end to the growth of Sigils?

Would another trinity simply be added to the insides of my Sigil just as it did at the 4th and 7th? Or would gaining a 10th Sigil shatter that and fuze them all together? But things work in trinities with Sigils, so... that would leave one outside the new core.

It's all so confusing. I think I have an idea of the correct answer, though, because if there were a 10th, then Godhood wouldn't be the end. Figures like the Mother Below would be rushing to advance further, yet they do not. They only seek to further their agendas and their power.

However, is that not the same thing?

Fuck! No. I have to be on the money. There are no legends, no myths, and no history of any being above a God. There are strong and weak Gods, but none that stand at a higher level. Godhood must be a long road without end besides death.

It's hard to imagine it, though, not gaining any new Sigils and attaining all new abilities through meticulous practice. It's not all that different from those without Sigils. They only grow stronger through that method.

So, there is no 10th Sigil. Well, that relieves me quite a bit. I won't have to find another, and at this point, I'm harshly concerned if there even are anymore, nor would I want another to be a Copycat. But this means that Blodwyn can't ascend like he has every other time. Fuck.

"It's alright, Blodwyn. We'll figure out another way. This isn't one we can just jump to. We're in it for the long haul."

Speaking aloud, I fall limp with the strand of hair in my hand as I feel it consolidate into something far more dangerous. I don't want this thing. It'll, without a doubt, be a lethal weapon, but it just gives me the creeps.

Plus, I already have Blodwyn and Lily. A fourth onto this body... it's already crowded. I don't want anymore, and I know they'll agree.

So, I compel my body to stand, ignoring the lead sensation crawling all over, and limp over toward Isaac. His battle ended shortly after ours, but he hasn't moved, not even coming to help us pull apart Maxemista.

Worry gnaws at me while I leave the snoring Lennon to bleed out on the floor. I already cleared him of Darklight, and I know he won't die from blood loss. In fact... I don't even know if Dominions can die that way without some other ability worsening that effect.

One foot after another, I gradually near the final Supreme, leaning against the side of a crater he made using one of the many effects of his Sirza. Isaac Erno's head is bowed, lowered slightly, and I take in the destruction all around as I stop beside him.

I sigh, my breath heavy with the weight of the sight before me. The cratered ground stretches out in every direction, a battlefield scarred by war between a Demigod and the vast army he faced.

The remnants of the army are tossed across the landscape, a morbid collection of corpses marked by unimaginable strength. They were powerful enough to lay waste to cities; their might often beyond comprehension, some that I perhaps would struggle against like that demon with the Dominion to conjure those ghastly jaws.

And yet... they now lie silent, their power extinguished by the lifeless body beside me. Some bodies are armored, others dressed in bizarre robes, their weapons strewn about, broken and useless, their very souls rotting in their corpses. Arcas are forming just within my sight, but I don't walk to claim them, knowing just how the Darklight will twist them.

Instead, I just stand still with wobbly legs, waiting out the moment.

The horizon is nothing but bleak ruins dotted with remnants of massive battles. Charred remnants of giant Motherbouond, like Taintwrought, lie twisted and mangled, sinking into the shattered earth. Crumbling structures jut from the ground, the remains of whatever bizarre Dzil came from Isaac's Sirza. Smoke lingers in the air from the sheer plethora of burnt corpses. Far, far beyond into the distance, battles still wage between the Gods, but here... it is silent.

Everywhere I look, the dead are in their final repose. Some appear to have fallen in combat, their bodies riddled with gaping wounds and darkened by fire. Others, perhaps stricken by plagues or poisons, lie with twisted faces and outstretched hands, their desperation forever frozen in time.

The carnage feels endless. Hills and valleys are dotted with the remains of Motherbound from all races, not just demons. Their once-mighty forms are now reduced to cold shells of flesh. It's a sight that shatters the spirit, the sheer scope of death almost impossible to fathom, even if the dead are foes. The silence is deafening, punctuated only by the distant rumble of warring Gods. It makes me uncomfortable, terribly so.

One Hundred Rasped Peaks, huh? How... poignant.

I continue to gaze across the devastation, my heart heavy with the knowledge that this is the cost of power, of ambition. This is worse than anything I've seen with my own eyes. The destruction of Blackreach was beyond this, but I couldn't see it. Not all that much, anyhow.

For Isaac's massacre, I got a front-row seat.

How many are going to die? We are way past the thousands. Millions are even a paltry number to those who have fallen. What will be left of the world when we are done?

If... our battles here were on the surface...

An entire Territory would have been ruined, perhaps even more, if either we fought Maxemista or Isaac fought the army. The thought sends chills down my spine. This is what power is, huh? Deciding who lives and dies? Watching countless crumble before you and simply moving on? As if nothing happened?

I. Hate. It. I despise it all.

"I see you won, young man."

A raspy voice calls to me from the ground. Twisting my head, I discover Isaac to be awake from whatever he was under, probably the Undead's stasis. His eyepatch is back on his face, however, hiding that terrible eye once more.

I nod to him, shifting back to face the death. It gnaws at me, flashing of my own death in place of Bonfire leaking into my sight. The Reaper who was reaching for me... Its hands dug into my flesh, dragging me away.

But a voice cut through the darkness, something that I can only now feel as I grow accustomed to all the lost life.

"Leave him. That is your only warning, Kudo. You take him, and I will add your husband to the list. Just send another Reaper after me."

The sound is of my father threatening a God while locked within another's shackles. The confidence is overwhelming, and based on Kudo's actions after the warning, she was afraid of him. And of me. She was afraid. Death was frightened of the Graves family.

I see. My father has always been there for me, even when I couldn't see him.

Closing my eyes, I let myself fall into the memory of my death, listening to Kudo's reply, the Goddess of Death, and Killian's swift end to the conversation.

"Leave...Louis...alone...he...is...good..."

"Then we have an accord."

Opening my eyelids, I notice that Isaac is talking; the noise previously cut off by my own memories. I look at him as the Supreme appears to be torn by his actions. His face is... twisted into a pained grimace at the desolation—little remains of his city, only a few pieces of rubble here or there.

"This is war, child—a war of worlds. Should we fall, it would not be only us who would suffer. The thousands before us are only the start. While I loathe their deaths, it must happen. I know you know this. I know you have killed your fair share. I say this for your conscience. Wait until after we have won to reminisce on what could have been done."

A little chirp comes from my throat as some part of me speaks that I didn't know I had within me.

"You think we'll win?"

Isaac's lone, fiery eye stares up at me from the ground. Then, he places his hands on the earth around himself, pushing his body into a standing position. The last Supreme of the Underworld grabs me by the shoulder with a grip unfit for his condition.

"There can be nothing but victory. Come here. Listen. Let us speak one final time, young man."

A man who has fought for centuries, non-stop, for no other reason than because he thought it was right, forces our gazes to meet as his tone deepens to a profound rhythm. My heart beats with a bizarre sensation, that of a coming death, as Isaac Erno says his final words to me.

"Look ahead, lad. Look to the skies, not the blood on the ground nor the fake that resides above—glimpse beyond to the alabaster clouds, the lovely blues, and the warm sun. Peek into the depths of the stars, the unknown that exists out there. There is so much beauty in this world. Do not be broken by the red."

Tears begin to well up in my eyes as I know this man has not seen the sky in a very... very long time. Nor will he ever again.

"Do not cry tears of sorrow. Wyatt Graves. You have shed blood and soul for the people of Heights, buying them time to escape. You have finished your time here in the Underworld. I thank you. You are... you are one of us, even if your heart still beats."

I open my mouth to speak, but the man does not let me. Isaac twists the arm that he holds, taking advantage of my weakness, and takes the strand of hair in my arm. I immediately rush to take it back, but Isaac holds up a broken arm, the sight of the gnarly white sticking out making me pause.

"This is my home. It has been for six hundred years. Louis passed the reins to Eleanor, she to Vicar, and he to me. This is my duty. A leader goes down with his country. And this is my land. Go. Enjoy the sun. Feel its warmth for me. We have had little time together, but I have seen you. You are worthy of that Stele. And don't you dare lose those lights in your eyes. Set them ablaze, with the passion for razing any Deity."

I don't know what to say, simply gazing back at the Supreme while a broad smile rests on his lips. Then... he walks away, limping slowly as I feel a grand pressure fall onto my body, preventing me from following after.

Knowing this is his Dominion, I reach out on my own to suppress his, but a magnific spirit advances down upon me. It is... radiant, so beautifully pure that I can't bear to injure it. Furthermore... I don't think I could. It is a petite thing, a little flame residing within the One Eyed's lone socket, but it is resilient, just as I am.

The battles he has lived through have me lost in wonder. This might have been the largest, but I know it is only the tip of the iceberg. The Supreme waves at me as he fades into the graveyard of corpses.

"Thank you for this Divinity. I will use it to buy the surface some more time. That is all we ever want, huh? Time. Go, boy. If you follow me, I will make you leave. Allow me this final death. It is my final wish, the first selfish thing in half a millennium."

The pressure upon me lingers after his exit. I can't move a single muscle underneath his Dominion with how weak my body is. Minutes pass before it finally recedes, letting me in on just how long Isaac has had that part of his soul. The reach on his Dominion... it's ridiculous, miles in length in fact.

A thin smile falls onto my lips as I smile back in the direction he left. If he recognized me as one of his own, then I can only do the same.

"May the Devil weigh in your favor once more, Isaac Erno. And may we meet again in another life."