Setting: Planet Cyrentha, a quiet world where no gods speak, no skies roar, and no mortals dream aloud.
Eternal descended upon Cyrentha in silence.
The planet looked lifeless at first—flat plains of gray stone stretched endlessly, dotted with sharp ridges and craters. But as he walked, he felt it: whispers beneath the ground, vibrations echoing into his being. Not voices from gods… but from within himself.
The gods here were silent. Deliberately.
Unlike the defiant or arrogant gods he had faced before, the guardian of Cyrentha had chosen a subtler defense: let Eternal be haunted by himself. The god had tapped into Eternal’s very essence, awakening fragments of his mind, shadows of memories long buried. This was not a battle of power—it was a war within.
---
Scene 1: The Inner Voices
Each step Eternal took deepened the pull.
He saw nothing. Yet his thoughts twisted:
> “You could have saved her… Val didn’t betray you. You forced her hand.”
> “You were once one of them, a protector, not a destroyer.”
> “What if this path ends in a void even you can’t fill?”
The voices weren’t foreign—they were his. Doubts long locked away. They took shape in the mist—ghostly versions of himself, each carved from regret, shame, or suppressed hope.
They didn't attack. They judged him.
But Eternal stood firm. “You are echoes, not truths.”
He lifted Oblivion and erased the first vision—himself cradling Val as she wept. Then another—his trial, where he begged the seven planets to speak for him. Silence, again.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
One by one, he slew the illusions.
But the last stood defiant. A version of himself, bloodless and godless, kneeling before the pantheon.
> “You think killing us strengthens you. But we are what keeps you from becoming nothing.”
Eternal snarled. “I am nothing. And yet I am all.”
He swung Oblivion. The ghost shattered—but the planet screamed.
Scene 2: The Silent God Strikes
The ground cracked. From beneath the stone, she rose—tall, made of living marble, her face faceless. The Goddess of Reflection and Silence. Her power wasn’t destruction—it was erosion. She had hoped to make Eternal crumble from within.
She spoke with no mouth, her voice an oppressive hum in his mind:
> “You’ve silenced your conscience for so long… But not even you can erase it completely.”
She reached out, and her silent influence pressed against his skull. His mind—sharp, absolute—was suddenly clouded. His thoughts slowed, distorted. She was not only testing his resolve—she was attempting to trap him within his own mind, locking him in a labyrinth of guilt and regret.
For a moment, Eternal faltered. His gaze flickered, the weight of the ancient memories pressing upon him. He saw himself, chained to the past, unable to move forward.
But the whispers grew louder. The fragments of his former self, the echoes of the power that had once been his, fought back. He felt Oblivion, pulsing with energy, pulling at the recesses of his soul.
---
Scene 3: Oblivion’s Unyielding Will
As the Silent God pressed harder, intending to collapse his mind into nothingness, Oblivion, resonating with its master’s will, reacted independently. The axe was more than a weapon—it was a reflection of Eternal’s heart, his unwavering will. It had no fear, no regret, no hesitation. It existed only to destroy.
Without command, the blade shuddered in Eternal’s grasp, rejecting the god’s mental grip.
Oblivion began to hum with a deep, resonant tone, vibrating with the pure force of anti-existence. As the Silent God’s influence over Eternal’s mind deepened, Oblivion surged forward, slicing through the air in an arc of divine power. The echoes of the Silent God’s influence shattered, crumbling like a cracked mirror.
But the goddess didn’t relent. She stretched her influence further, targeting the queens—Selipha and Lunara who stood behind Eternal, unwavering.
The goddess whispered to them, the whispers reaching into their very souls:
> “You will fall with him. His destruction is your end.”
For the briefest moment, the queens froze, their faces contorting with doubt and fear. But just as their minds were about to be consumed, Oblivion’s presence surged once more. The axe twisted in Eternal’s hand, and the spirit of the weapon fought against the Silent God’s whispers, unraveling her influence over the queens.
Selipha blinked and stepped forward, a burning cold light in her eyes. Lunara whispered something in a forgotten tongue, and dark tendrils of power ripped apart the mental chains.
They were freed, together, by the unity between Eternal and Oblivion—a bond forged in their shared, unstoppable will.
Scene 4: The Silent God’s Fall
Seeing that her grip had failed, the Silent God rose, her form shifting and warping, her marble-like body splintering as she prepared to strike again.
But Eternal was no longer trapped by doubt. No longer haunted by the fragments of a forgotten self.
“You are nothing,” he declared, the power in his voice an earthquake. His grip tightened around Oblivion.
With one fluid motion, he swung the axe downward. The blade struck the Silent God with an unstoppable force, her essence breaking apart like glass against a hammer.
There was no explosion of flame. No violent eruption. Only a sudden, deep silence.
And then, the god was gone. Erased. Not even a trace remained.
Scene 5: The Collapse of Cyrentha
With the Silent God’s death, Cyrentha itself began to erode. Not in fire. But in stillness. The earth cracked open, the skies grew dark, and the very fabric of reality began to unravel. The planet’s existence ceased, swallowed by the void.
As the landscape fell away, only the four of them stood: Eternal, Selipha and Lunara The queens had been tested, their resolve stronger than ever, their unity with Eternal unbreakable
Lunara: “Even your silence echoes, my love.”
Eternal: “And the gods now fear what they cannot hear.”
Selipha: “Eleven remain.”
Eternal turned, his eyes black as a void, his body radiating absolute power.
“Then let them hear nothing but their end.”
