VOLUME XXII

MYTHOS OF CHAOS

CHAPTER 526

THE CREATOR'S CALL

A transcendent-like blue sky curved smoothly, shaded in resplendent azure. Not a trace of clouds could be found, suppressed underneath the might of a clear day. Flocks upon flocks of birds, some as tiny as a grown man’s hand and some as large as a small castle, flew across the tender skyline, their cries belittling the world beneath, forming a symphony of perfect sounds that melded together.

Beneath the skyline stretched an impetuous river, over twenty meters wide, cutting through the green-laden meadow like a god's blade. Transparent, regardless of its mythical depths, even an ordinary eye could gleam past its frigid, violent surface and into the calm and tranquil depths where bedrock gave way to the scores of pearls and shining diamonds. Several hundred children played, swimming and dancing, within the river that should have swept them clean. Yet, instead, it cradled them, like the beautiful day above.

The surrounding mountains formed a perfect ring, enshrouding the meadowed plain like massive walls barring anyone unwanted from entering. All were drowned in thick forests beyond compare, thin veils of swaying webs visible among the few. The wind tickled the chuckling branches and the slithering grass as the mountains gave way to an unnatural flatland, one completely without a hill, stretching to over a hundred miles in circumference. Villages sprung out like mushrooms after rain all around, most adjacent to the massive river, ensuring there was never a moment of silence.

Within one of the communities, a small, wooden pier extended past the riverbank and over the clear water, barely a meter, thick and made out of seemingly old and rotting wood. On top of it, a topless man wearing only short trousers barely reaching his knees currently held onto a fishing rod, a hat shielding his face from the burning sun above. He melodically hummed a low tune, rising and lowering the notes ever so often, sometimes turning to whistling to change the pace.

He hummed peacefully, worriless, swaying left and right as the wind cradled him gently. He had incomparably distinct features, two eyes spun wide, the irises eerie beyond description. Eight lines crossed through the mid-section, burning in distinct, violent hue, his pupils swirls of damning azure, reflecting the sky. His eyebrows burned red, locks of similarly-dyed hair fluttering over his pronounced, wide forehead.

Beneath his eyes, a pair of sunken cheeks gave way to two circular holes just before reaching the jawline, revealing the innards of his mouth. Tendrils connected the top and the bottom, occasionally pulsating, reacting to the beat of his heart. Several holes similar to these permeated his body, namely at his shoulders, outer thighs, lower forearms, and sides of the ribcages.

Yet, every time the faint beam of the sunlight would caress one of these wounds, something seemed to awake within them, flickers of deep, terrible fire that should not exist. It scorched the wound further, yet the man seemed not to care, or even notice.

All of a sudden, just as the sun hit its zenith, the man shuddered, the hat falling off his head. His entire body exuded an aura of dignity and excellence, so much so that the river before him seemed to slow down. The edges of his body flickered in crimson-coral, like the fire being kindled, as he raised is head, his strange eyes gazing beyond the breathtaking skyline.

“… the Creator’s summons?” he mumbled, suddenly extending his left arm and snapping his fingers. Space next to him distorted strangely as a figure with similar designs walked through. She appeared no older than thirty, her black hair the length of her body, tied in one massive tail wrapped around her neck twice over, let down in-between her breasts. Like the man, she was topless, the bottom covered up with a low-thigh skirt made out of ordinary cloth.

She had the exact same eyes save for the color of the diagonal lines which were holistically golden, beyond dignified. Her appearance, though not precisely beautiful, was entrancing, inviting and warm.

“This is rare,” she said in a somewhat surprised tone. “You haven’t called me for four hundred eighty-eight thousand years, eleven months and fourteen days.”

“… ugh,” the man groaned, swallowing a deep gulp as he glanced at the woman with a strange expression. “Please, we are married. Will there ever come a time when you’ll stop being a stalker?”

“How are we married?” the woman questioned. “How can I be married to a man who I haven’t seen in four hundred eighty-eight—”

“Fine, fine, fine,” the man interrupted, seeming annoyed. “I’m terribly sorry I haven’t interrupted you during the precious Enlightenment. How cruel of me. Ugh…”

“… so, what’s up?” the woman’s expressionless face spun upside down as she sat down next to the man, her lips curling up into a beautiful smile.

“The Creator summoned me.”

“Eh? What’s that dude up to now?”

“… can you not speak so casually about the Creator?” the man frowned.

“Eh, creator-schmetor,” the woman shrugged her shoulders. “My creators are my papa and mama who, once upon a time, deemed it a good idea to screw—”

“Yeah, I’ll stop you right there,” the man said, putting his palm onto the woman’s lips. Merely a moment later, he felt a wet sensation strike against his palm, causing him to sigh. “I know you have mixed feelings about it, but… just… keep them to yourself, please?”

“Ugh, stop being a scaredy-cat,” the woman slapped the back of his head gently, chuckling. “What would Caleb and Talisha think if they saw you right now?”

“—ugh, why do you have to bring those two up each time?!!” a look of horror crossed the man’s features; for a brief moment, his memories flashed back to the distant and desired-to-be-buried memories, and the pair that struck the long-term trauma and phobia into his heart.

“Ha ha ha, because your reactions are adorable!!” the woman laughed, leaning her head onto his shoulder. His hardened expression mellowed somewhat as he reached out and caressed her hair gently. “What does he want now?”

“—I don’t know,” the man sighed, shaking his head helplessly. “The summons didn’t come directly; rather, Agent Elanor contacted me.”

“Hoh? Hasn’t she been missing for, well, a long-ass time?” even the woman couldn’t remember the last time she heard that name. Was it shortly after the Ashening?

“Hm,” the man nodded solemnly. “From the sound of it, it is rather urgent. Aah, looks like another war is imminent. This is getting tiring…”

“Then don’t go.”

“You know I can’t refuse.”

“Caleb can.”

“… Caleb is insane.” The man shuddered once more, glancing at her with faint hostility. Is she trying to piss me off?! “I’m not.”

“You’re insane enough yourself when you try,” she smiled provocatively for a moment. “Like when we first met, remember? Aah~~ the escastic feeling that swelled in my groi—I mean my heart when you jumped in and started smashing their heads and setting them on fire. Aah~~”

“… did-did you hang out with Talisha while I wasn’t looking?! You’re reminding me more and more of her!”

“What’s wrong with that?” the woman shrugged.

“She’s even worse than Caleb!!” the man exploded. “Have you already forgotten?!! She alone ransacked over twenty fortifications and killed over at the very least a million people before the Ashening!!”

“It’s good to be scary, isn’t it?~~” the woman teased as the man settled down, sighing.

“Where are those two anyway? I should give them a call; the Agent said I should bring at least two more people.”

“Who knows?” the woman shrugged. “Last I heard, they were rampaging on Citrus. But that was a good billion years ago. I can go, and we can call Lenny. He should suffice.”

“No, it’s fine,” the man refused. “You still need some time, and Lenny isn’t strong enough for this, I feel. It’s… bigger than before, Ana. I can feel it.”

“Oh, well, if you can feel it.”

“I’m serious,” the man said, his gaze sharpening. “Something about this… is different. Far too different than before…”

**

Calls like these swept through the numerous worlds, and none dared reject them. After all, the Agent was a direct Child of the Creator itself – how would they, who fought for the Creation, dare refuse?

One by one, streams of light ranging through all hues, burned through the empty cosmos as they headed over to the mythical land where only the select few chosen were allowed to enter. It was a call that could not be ignored, and they all felt, to varying degrees, the seriousness of it.

One by one, heroes that conquered the worlds, that rose above their peers, that defied the wills of heavens, came streaming beneath the solitary hole in the nothingness, not daring to enter. Inside was the Garden of Creation from where the sprouts of all other worlds extended like the branches of a tree.

Before them, clad in the light so holy it was blinding, a single woman hovered, her features beyond the description of beauty. She bore a dignified, yet painfully solemn expression, on her face, her lips quivering slightly.

Soon enough, nearly a hundred thousand souls stood, each as reverent as the last, the topless man among them, now clad in a simple robe. She’s changed, he thought, thinking back to the cold, heartless creature she was when they first met. What happened?

“Thank you all for gathering at such a short notice,” Ella’s voice easily permeated the miles of empty cosmos, defying the laws of physics, reaching all ears present. “And in great numbers. Lend me your strength, the Chosen Ones,” she said as the halo behind her spun in resplendent gold, shaking and expanding into a massive ring of fire as the tendrils of flame converged to the center, forming a face of a middle-aged looking man. “The Destroyer seeks to resurrect with the help of this man,” she added. “They believe themselves larger than our Creator. It is our destiny to prevent! To stop them! To uphold the Law!” nobody cheered; rather, Ella didn’t expect them to cheer.

Suddenly, her entire body shuddered as blood seeped from the corners of her lips. The fiery face behind her stuttered in a strange, bizarre fashion, the face converging further until it appeared agonizingly realistic. The expressionless face turned pained, corners of the eyes veering down at Ella who glanced back in horror and surprise.

“L-Lino—”

“It’s a shame…” his voice broke past the barriers of reality, reaching the ears of everyone gathered and causing them all to nearly spit out a mouthful of blood. “Your army is weak, El’. Be better than those ordering you; don’t send them to pointless deaths.” The face vanished all of a sudden, but it etched itself in the heart of all those present.

The topless man was shaking, a trail of blood edging at the corners of his lips. We’re supposed fight him? He pondered inwardly. Fuck you, Creator!! Are you out of your fucking mind you shitty-ass bitch?! Fuck, I should have listened to Ana and pretended to be deaf… fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… Alan’s actual personality unknowingly seeped through. It has been a long time since that happened. Almost a year at this point.