Chapter 45: Diary of Dr. Muroid (Side story) [Part 2]
The King of a Kingless World
Looming over a ruined city, a colossal figure cast its shadow upon the shattered remains of civilization.
It was so vast, so unfathomably large, that even from miles away, it seemed to stretch beyond the heavens themselves. If it so desired, it could lift the city up, cradle it within its mechanical grasp, and still, it would seem no heavier than a pebble.
Its form defied reason.
Its presence defied mortality.
This was a God Engine.
A construct of war. Of divinity. Of purpose.
It stood as both monument and executioner, a creation forged by the hand of a being who called himself salvation.
The Demon King of Salvation
The God Engines were not mere machines.
They were legions. They were armies. They were gods waiting to be born.
And they had been created by none other than the Demon King of Salvation.
A King of a kingless world.
A conqueror without a throne.
A shepherd of civilizations—yet one who refused to coddle them.
He was the architect of The Hegemony of Tyranny, Ruination, and Conquest. A title spoken in fear, in reverence, in curses. A being of unknowable age, who had walked through the epochs of existence before time itself had learned how to move forward.
The Demon King of Salvation did not believe in ruling from a throne of comfort.
No.
He sought to forge.
To sculpt.
To mold existence itself into something greater.
And the God Engines were his tools.
The Purpose of the God Engines
The God Engines were not mindless automatons.
They were not soulless machines built to obey.
They thought.
They felt.
They had preferences, dreams, desires.
Each was a being of vast intelligence, forged in the crucible of purpose. They were created not to destroy civilizations, but to foster them.
To guide them.
To push them to the brink of enlightenment—so that they could ascend.
The Demon King did not seek to wipe out the weak. He did not burn worlds for the sake of it.
He wanted them to grow.
To evolve.
To reach for divinity.
For that was his true goal.
He did not want to be the only god.
He wanted mortals to rise.
To tear down the limits imposed upon them.
To shatter the chains of fate, of order, of stagnation.
To kill the gods that came before them and take their place.
That was what he desired.
The Words of a Creator
The God Engines had been created countless eons ago.
A billion years?
A trillion?
Perhaps a sextillion.
Time had long lost its meaning to him.
But he remembered the moment of their creation.
He remembered what he had told his most trusted secretary as he gazed upon his greatest work.
"They shall be my finest warriors.
Like clay, I shall mold them into gods.
The finest weapons will they be armed with.
They shall bring all civilizations to divinity.
And I shall be their maker—their creator.
They will empty any battlefield.
No matter how large a world, my creations will be larger.
Together, we shall bring this multiverse to its finest glory."
He had spoken those words not as a king.
Not as a warlord.
Not even as a god.
But as a father.
For that is what he had become.
And the God Engines had become his children.
The Diary of Dr. Muroid
The Demon King's secretary had recorded much over the centuries.
In his private diary, he had written of his conversations with the King of Salvation.
Of the moments where he had glimpsed something more beneath the surface.
One such entry was dated:
12th Eclipsera (December).
It read as follows:
—
'I had to enhance one of the king's creations today.
The God Engine's name was "Utelo."
A strange name, I thought. But I kept my opinions to myself.
Not because I am forbidden from speaking my mind, but because I have learned that questioning the king's choices often leads to revelations I am not prepared for.
Utelo was terrifying.
Not because of its size. Not because of its power.
But because of its eyes.
Because of the way it looked at me—as if it understood me better than I understood myself.
As I worked on enhancing Utelo's ability to fly, I asked the king a question.
"Sir, if I may ask… why do you allow your creations to call you Father?"
His response was immediate.
"I don't see any problem with them calling me Father."
I was silent for a long moment.
Then, cautiously, I asked another question.
"Sir… when you instructed me to instill emotions into the God Engines, was it for a long-term strategy? A tactical advantage?"
For a brief moment, I feared I had overstepped.
The king turned his head toward me—slowly, deliberately.
It was not an expression of anger.
It was something else.
Contemplation?
Nostalgia?
Regret?
Then, he spoke.
"Emotions are defined as one's feelings derived from circumstances, mood, or relationships. Giving them emotions will be beneficial to both them and me. A powerful, yet emotionless machine is dangerous. Their actions become unpredictable. Instilling emotions lowers that risk."
Then, after a pause, he added—
"It might be as you say, Dr. Muroid. It was a long-term plan."
His answer was reasonable. Understandable.
And yet…
There was something more to it.
Something deeper.
I have worked for many beings over the millennia. Many kings. Many rulers.
I have been used for my intellect, for my skill, for my knowledge.
Always, I was instructed to create soulless machines. Automatons that would obey without question.
But the king…
He was different.
He did not want mindless soldiers.
He did not want slaves.
He wanted something more.
Something that could look up at the gods—
—and dare to challenge them.
I will not admit this to anyone, but in that moment…
I found myself admiring him.'
—
The Legacy of the God Engines
The God Engines were not simply weapons.
They were disciples.
They were students.
They were children.
And they had only one purpose.
To bring mortals to godhood.
To challenge fate.
To slay the divine.
And when that day came—
When the heavens trembled—
When the multiverse stood on the precipice of its final war—
The Demon King of Salvation would watch.
And he would smile.
For that would be the day his creations had finally surpassed him.
A City Brought to Ruin
Beneath the looming figure of the God Engine, the once-magnificent city of Oppen lay in ruins.
Where once stood towers of gold and ivory, there were now only shattered spires, broken palaces, and rivers of fire. The air was thick with the scent of burning wealth, of history reduced to cinders.
Oppen had been a city of grandeur.
A place where nobles and royals from every corner of the planet had come to bask in luxury, trade, and influence. It was a metropolis where the greatest minds, merchants, and aristocrats gathered, a beacon of civilization that had seemed untouchable—a fortress of wealth and power.
And yet, in the face of a God Engine, none of that had mattered.
The city's pride had turned to hubris.
Its walls had turned to ash.
Its people had turned to dust.
The being responsible for this devastation had a name.
Ahush, the God Engine of Ruin
It stood there—colossal, unmoving, its vast form stretching towards the heavens.
Its silhouette was jagged, monstrous, a titan of iron and divine wrath, forged by a creator who had shaped it for a singular purpose.
Ahush.
A name that now echoed in fear across the dying city.
Of all the God Engines, Ahush was among the most feared.
It was not just a machine of war.
It was a being of judgment.
Wherever Ahush went, ruin followed.
It was relentless, unyielding, and absolute. A harbinger of the Demon King's will, one that had descended upon Oppen not out of hatred, nor rage, nor vengeance—but because it was necessary.
The city had once been a symbol of untouchable prosperity.
But prosperity, left unchecked, breeds decay.
And decay was a weakness the Demon King of Salvation could not allow to fester.
Ahush had not simply destroyed Oppen.
It had cleansed it.
And yet, this act of ruin had drawn the attention of something even greater.
The I.S.S: The Last Bastion Against the God Engines
In the aftermath of Ahush's destruction, a new threat loomed.
Not a machine.
Not a god.
But an organization.
The I.S.S.—the Intergalactic Safety Security.
A force spanning multiverses, existing solely to combat threats beyond mortal comprehension.
And the God Engines were their greatest enemies.
For years, the I.S.S had waged an endless war against the creations of the Demon King.
They had seen firsthand the devastation wrought by his works, had sacrificed countless agents in their attempts to suppress his influence.
And now, Ahush had made a move too large to be ignored.
The I.S.S would come.
They would come armed with weapons crafted from stars, with armies trained to fight gods, with tactics refined over centuries of war.
But Ahush did not fear them.
Because Ahush was not alone.
And the Demon King had already foreseen this.
The Diary of Dr. Muroid
As the conflict loomed, far from the battlefield, deep within the halls of a forgotten stronghold, a man sat in his dimly lit study, penning the words of history.
Dr. Muroid.
The Demon King's Secretary.
The one who had seen the mind of the King more than any other.
His diary was ancient—a tome that spanned millennia, containing truths that few dared to speak.
One such entry, scrawled in precise handwriting, bore the date:
13th Eclipsera (December).
—
'The King spoke to me today.
A rare occurrence.
I have spent my life serving him, yet I can count on one hand the times he has sought me out rather than the other way around.
He had no need for servants. No need for followers.
And yet, he keeps me.
Today, I asked him something I had been pondering for centuries.
"My Lord… do you fear the I.S.S?"
The question itself was absurd.
To 'fear' would imply that he saw them as a true threat.
And yet… the King did not dismiss it outright.
He turned to me, his gaze calm, yet endless.
"Dr. Muroid," he said, "tell me… what do you think the I.S.S truly is?"
I blinked at the question. Was it a test? A trick?
Still, I answered.
"They are an intergalactic organization that seeks to preserve balance. They police the multiverse. They see you and your creations as a threat to that balance."
He was silent for a long moment. Then, he spoke.
"Balance… is an illusion."
"It is a fragile construct built by those who fear change."
"And I… am the very embodiment of change."
He stepped forward then, standing before the vast map of the multiverse that lined his war room.
His fingers traced the outlines of stars and galaxies.
"The I.S.S believes that they fight for stability. That they stand against the chaos of gods and monsters."
He turned his head slightly, looking at me from the corner of his eye.
"But tell me, Dr. Muroid… in all your years of watching them, have you ever noticed how they do not stop the rise of gods? Only the ones they do not control?"
His words settled into my mind like an unbearable weight.
For they were true.
The I.S.S did not destroy all gods.
They destroyed the ones that did not align with their vision.
They were not the guardians of peace.
They were the architects of stagnation.
I did not respond. I did not need to.
For the King already knew my answer.
He always did.
And as I looked upon him, upon the being who had created the God Engines, who had forged a war that spanned realities, who sought not conquest, but transcendence…
I realized something.
The I.S.S did not fear him because he was a warlord.
They feared him because he was right.'
—
A Storm Approaches
As Dr. Muroid's pen fell silent, the world outside trembled.
Ahush stood unmoving over the ruins of Oppen, watching the horizon.
In the distance, ships of the I.S.S broke through the clouds, their arrival heralded by the deafening roar of cosmic engines.
The war was coming.
The final clash between order and ruin.
Between a King without a throne and an empire of stagnation.
And as the sky burned with the arrival of the enemy, Ahush did not move.
For it was waiting.
Waiting for the command of its creator.
Waiting for the next step in a war that had begun long before mortals had even learned to speak.
And soon, the Demon King of Salvation would give his answer.