Winter had taken most of the continent, only the outer edges of the circle remained in the sweet warmth of summer. Further inward the cold had turned freezing, while large swaths of land laid under the heavily blanket of snow. They were at the low point of life, the Sun reaching it furthest distance. It was the time of sleep, the time of death. Mortals should be hiding themselves in their hovels, resting with the rest of nature waiting for the return of the Sun.

Not this year, the lands rumbled with the activity of millions. Populations were on the move, and nothing would stop them. A crusade was on, the likes of which Malan had never seen. So many followers under one pantheon, all moving under a guiding hand. Wargain wanted another continent, and cared not if the climate favored war. He was a god after all, one of fire. The cold wouldn’t stop him or his armies of Ascendants. They were immune to its touch, and those that weren’t, the labors counting in the Hundreds of thousands. The pyres of Wargain flame would keep them safe.

Through the use of his Shadows Malan watched the heart of Wargain armies march east. Great roads of polished stone, now being carved with detailed finery, allowed them to traverse the land quickly. If the continent of the east didn’t have a unified pantheon, then eventually, be it decades or centuries, Wargain would gain his prize.

Normally Malan would be devising plans to prevent this, his own pantheon had proven to be quite the force. Their diversity of skills, and bestowing of power made their followers deadly foes. They now had the means to actually inflict loses Wargain would find intolerable. And with six Cores powering them, keeping their followers going even when death took their living shells. They couldn’t be stopped; they couldn’t be removed. They would be a fester that would spread through the realm Wargain had subjugated. Wonder was blooming, one day, the realm would be as his father had showed him.

A place where all were gods, and the realm, creation, their play thing.

At least that was what he entertained, something to preoccupy his mind as he watched the Sun from multiple shrines. They were angled about so he could tract its trajectory. For now all seemed normal, but in a few moments he would know. The anticipation gnawed at him, and he in turn gnawed on one of his claws as he waited, seated on a piece of rock shaped into a chair.

It was a quaint sight before him, high up on a mountain so he could see the land in all its beauty. The sky was a rich blue, filled with large lazy clouds. The sun, even distant, had the realm gleam as its glow reflected on the fresh snow. Nothing about the sight promised a doom, none would know, save for him and those he told.

“Celestials,” he said, praying to the beings above, keepers of the realm. “Not yet, let the doom come another day.” He begged, would even have offered Devotion, but the Celestials didn’t care for such things, they only observed and maintained functions none understood.

He prayed anyways, his mind counting down the seconds, measuring the distance. With each passing moment his breathing grew heavier, the wait stifling.

At the moment of truth, he placed his hands over his muzzle, watched with wide unblinking eyes. ‘One, two three.’ He counted fur raising as the peek was reached. Then, Celestials then, it kept going.

He continued to stare, hoping is calculations wrong, his multiple sights deceived. But time moved forward same as the Sun. It was no trick.

“Oh divines!” He shouted, bolting upright and pulling at his droopy ears. The end was here, Celestials save them all. His mind raced, thoughts an endless tide as he considered actions. Before it had been somewhat calm, the illusion that the end was in question, now it was a stated fact. Doom was coming, and with it an endless winter few would survive.

“You made quite the mistake Wargain.” He stated to the wind, his rival couldn’t have picked a worse moment to war, mighty or not it would be impossible to keep the armies of mortals feed forever. With the Sun leaving it would be up to them, gods, to provide the nourishment for the plants to grow.

“Gods are going to wither just like the forests.” It was a loss no matter how he saw it. Even Lisoe, Cycure and Est working as one wouldn’t be able to keep the crops going, not in large enough amounts to maintain the population of millions under their care.

“Stop thinking about them.” He told himself, walking in a circle, fretting.

Forming a mental map, Malan thought about the lands, his followers needed a refuge. His gaze moved to the mountains; those dubbed the Reaching Peeks. Counter to what people once thought, that range had little to no ore hidden within them. To the disappointment of many laboring sects of the Verm god and architect Tetar.

They were mostly abandoned, save for those truly desperate or mad who thought they were going to find a secret pocket of ore.

“We’ll dig as deep as the realm allows.” Straight to the unmoving stone that served as the foundation of the realm. Warmth would be easier to maintain in the deeps, and the light he would have to maintain to grow food for his followers. Unless they relied completely on Devotion to nurture themselves. An option only open to him. For some odd reason after a certain point, if a mortal didn’t eat, they stopped producing Devotion to send to a god.

Madness had informed him of this, claimed it a check to stop a power loop. Thus forcing pantheons and mortals to maintain and live off the land. Now that an endless winter was coming, Malan saw it also ensured none would have an easy time living in the frozen waste.

He whimpered at the thought, and the visions that began to form in his mind. A realm of deficiency and struggle, a plane where Wonder dwindled under the harsh conditions of the environment.

The thought rubbed him raw, he hissed and punched a section of rock near him, shattering it into pieces. “Celestials,” he breathed out, holding his chest. His nurture was repulsed by the vision, Wonder had to bloom, same with life, but the Sun was leaving, the light dimming, the warmth fading.

He took a calming breath, centered himself. “I need to be focused, I need to plan, they’ll need me.” His followers would be turning to him for salvation. Once people began to notice the Sun was off, the winter getting worse and the nights longer.

“Wait.” He said, looking to the sky, watching the three lesser lights. The sons of the Sun, “what happens to them?” He tracked their trajectories, found them staying in place, they weren’t following their father, they remained in their correct alignment.

“Does that mean we don’t lose all the lights?” Not that it really changed anything, the sons offering of nourishment was miniscule, it wouldn’t stop the winter, but it would make things not as direr.

“Madness will know.” He had to talk with his friend anyways, inform that it had been right. The end was here. “There’s still many things I don’t know.” Left blind as he was, he couldn’t plan accordingly, but there was one thing he could do. Malan sent his finding to his pantheon, informed them the winter wasn’t going to end, and that they were in for interesting times.

They sent their acknowledgement, all of them just as concerned as he. “We’ll have to have a meeting soon.” Gather their strength as quickly as possible to best weather the coming calamity.

But not now, he needed Madness advice. So he pulled his awareness back together, manifesting in a clearing that had been warped into a hidden alcove holding his and another shrine. Through it he would be given passage to Madness afterlife, a place the entity in question rarely ever left.

Walking over and placing a hand on it, he sent his request and the realm rippled.

He returned to the darkened library; this time surrounded by stone carved tables piled high with tomes. Some were open yet he didn’t have permission to read their contents, so to him the pages were blank.

“You’ve returned,” came thrilled voices behind him, followed with arms wrapping around his waist. Madness pressed itself against his back for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Don’t mind the mess,” it said, as he turned to look upon his oldest friend. “I’ve been doing research of my own, seeing if somewhere in my collection this dreaming end has been mentioned before.”

He raised a brow in question, but Madness shook its head. “Nothing, it seems even my lore is too young to have seen this before.”

“Or its new.” He added but Madness rebuked is observation. “Doubtful, I would know if new content had been added into the realm. No, no, this has always been here, it just happened to far back for anyone to remember.”

“So you already know then,” Malan said. “The Sun has broken its pattern; it continues to travel outward.”

“It does?” Madness voices questioned, mirth building. It clapped, and grabbed hold of his hands before it lightly began to hop. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun Malan, the simple times of waiting is done. The marvels we’re going to see.”

Malan tightened his grip on Madness hands, he didn’t share in Madness assessment, which it noticed given the somber face he wore.

“Ah, of course,” Madness spoke, calming itself. “Your nature isn’t allowing you to enjoy this moment. You can only think of the death that is to come, and your need to prevent it.” It sighed. “Sometimes I feel bad for you healer types, you’re all so burdened by the need to help.”

“It’s one I gladly hold,” Malan said and wished everyone else did as well, that way entities like Wargain would never come to be. And the realm wouldn’t be one of constant conflict. “Is there anything we can do to help the mortals survive this?” He asked and added. “Without the Sun the land can’t be soiled, food will become scarce, the cold will worsen, and the lighter furred races will begin to freeze.”

This time it was Madness turn to tighten its grip, and it pulled him close, looked him straight in the eyes with its own glowing orbs. “The end Malan. It’s in the name.” He couldn’t see the gesture, given Madness face was pure darkness, but he could feel it. Madness was giving him a sympathetic smile. “Everything ends, there’s no stopping that.”

Malan looked away, tried to pull away, Madness however, clung to him tighter. “Accept it.” It said in a commanding tone, but one laden with care. “Don’t delude yourself, I’ve seen where that path leads for those of your nature. I won’t have you embrace it.”

“Malan?” It said, given he still wasn’t looking at its face anymore, his nature wanted to rebuke the other entity, prove it wrong. But Malan wasn’t just a life weaver, a healer, he was a scholar, and peddler. He breathed out, forced himself to look back into the orbs of light. “You’re going to have to explain things to me, show the reasoning of your deduction.”

Madness grip loosened and it laughed weakly. “Praise be your thinking mind.” Voices mumbled out. It let go of his right hand, and a motioned with its arm, the tables around them moved further back, some pressing against each other as a new round table appeared with two chairs. “I’ll answer every question I can, with the end truly here, its best for you to be informed.”

They separated and took their seats in the cushioned chairs of stone. As they faced each other, glasses, a pitcher, various fruits and cheeses appeared on the table. Madness attempt of calming him, since his people favored long talks accompanied with food.

Malan wasn’t one to say he was drunkard, but he went for the pitcher first, pouring himself and Madness a glass of grape wine. The sweetness helped to combat the bitter well of emotions he was feeling from his nature in revolt. He took a long sip, doing his best to savor the taste as he leaned into his seat. Swirling the glass of wine, he asked his first question. “I noticed we never talked about the sons of the Sun. What happens to them, do they eventually follow their father?”

“The lesser lights?” Madness questioned; Malan nodded. “No, they do the reverse. With the Light of lights on its trajectory outward, the lessers will quickly spin inward. In a month they will rotate in a close circle at the realms heart.

“Their purpose?” He asked, a little relieved, as least there would be some light in the realm.

Madness gestured with it hands. “To serve as a clock of sorts. Once at the center, they begin to spin faster and faster, slowly closing in on each other.” Madness smashed his hands together. “Once they merge into one, the next part of the end begins.”

Malan downed his drink and refilled the glass, followed with a few nervous bites of cheese. “And what happens then?” He forced himself to ask.

“Well,” Madness began, its voices eager to talk about the subject. “You need some contexts first.” The table surface rippled, some of the plates moved to make room as the middle formed into map of the realm.

“It not complete, as you can see,” Madness added pointing to areas unrefined. “But I know there are landmass here.”

“Anyways, now that the Light of lights has departed, the realm is going to endure a survival game.” Malan looked at his friend troubled. Madness waved its hands in appeasement. “It’s nothing you don’t already know, with the Light of lights gone maintaining followers is going to almost impossible.” Madness leaned closer. “None of you really understand how much the Light provides freely. The big one,” Madness said, pointing at him. “Is Devotion, with it gone the amount everyone is going to get from followers is going to be halved.”

Malan coughed, and nearly dropped his glass. “What?” He stammered.

“I know right,” Madness said thrilled. “These pantheons are so weak compared to last time; I’m really wondering how many are going to make it the next phase.” Madness many voices laughed at it leaned into its seat for a moment. “I can’t believe this is happening so early in the session.” Madness clapped and sat back up, then pointed at the map. “Naturally with the Light of lights gone and pantheon follower’s prayer in mass for aid. Gods will react swiftly, spend large amounts of their reserves keeping their followers alive.” Madness chuckled. “All the while unaware at first of the steep Devotion drop that’s going to happen.”

“Many will be caught off guard.” Malan said, in fact almost everyone would, save for his pantheon and other entities like Madness who knew what was coming.

Madness nodded in agreement. “For three months all the gods will have to deal with is the bitter cold. However,” Madness shook a finger at him again. “The moment that passes the enemy of the realm will reveal itself in full, then the true survival part begins.” Madness gestured to the map as it warped and tiny armies of abominations appeared and spread outward. “The land will fill with foes aimed at killing everything that remains, no place will be safe.”

Malan let out a shaky breath. “So we can’t hide underground and be spared?”

Madness shook its head. “The enemy will know instinctively where all life is, there will be no hiding.” It shrugged. “That is in the long run, in beginning the enemy will be attracted to large population areas, so for the likes of your followers. They will be able to avoid most of the dangers at the start.”

Malan forced himself to take a sip of drink, plans trying to form. They would move underground then, it was the best play to make in order survive the cold for three months. “This enemy, is there any way to hold it off?”

Madness chuckled. “The same with any foe, power, be it the might of armies or the strength of the gods. The enemy won’t be unstoppable avatars, they will be killable, just infinite in number, eventually they will overrun the living. But for a time the pantheons and their followers will have the strength and numbers to kept themselves alive. Which is the point Malan, the first phase is to weaken everyone and remove those who never had a chance to win the session to begin with.”

That word had his ears twitch. “I’ve been waiting to ask you about that.” Malan said putting down his glass, no amount of sweet wine was going to overcome the distraught these talks were bringing him. “I recall you saying we are to cheer on those we wish to win. Care to elaborate?”

Madness to Malan surprise remained quiet, even seemed hesitant to provide the answer it had. That should be counter to its nature, which meant he wasn’t going to like what he was to hear.

“You’re going to be angry with me, or sad,” Madness began. “I haven’t told you all the penalties that come with using a Sovereign core.”

“We made a deal.” Malan said, already feeling himself getting flustered. “That you inform me of –

He stopped, recalling his word. “The consequences related to my continued existence as a god, and if it would indeed make me immune from withering.”

The other entity nodded. “Which I did, all of it true. what I tell you now are things your past self would have either ignored or find maddening. You might not have taken the deal, and I didn’t want to lose your company. So few appreciate and crave knowledge like I do.”

Malan breathed, rubbed is brows, and forced himself to look at Madness. “What is it you didn’t tell me?”

“Though the penalties of the Sovereign core I told you are limiting.” Madness said with scholarly voices. “It not enough to make gods shy away from using it. If that was all there was to suffer, the realm would be full of unending gods. The ability to outlast your foes is a powerful boon. No there had to be more consequences, else nothing would get resolved.”

“Besides,” Madness added fanning its arms out. “The Cores are supposed to be a learning tool, help new Sovereigns get used to the game and its workings.” Malan forced himself not to interpret, or ask more questions, else he would never get to the answer of the first.

“So to counteract this, it was decided that when in use of a core, the Sovereign isn’t able to win the game. They’re excluded from the final phase. And more importantly.” Madness added excitedly. “They don’t earn merits while in possession of a Core, that,” Madness said pointing at him. “Really got Sovereigns to forgo the use of Cores, till now in the present they’re almost forgotten about.”

His mad friend finished, and Malan sighed. “I have many more questions, since what you just said to me made little to no sense.”

Madness threw up its hands, looked about for a moment debating with itself, then he was hit with a wave of knowledge. Images blurred past, foreign concepts tried and were then allowed into his mind.

“You have to think of creation in terms of a game Malan, for that is all it is. A recurring one.” Madness added. “You play, you earn merits, you use those merits to unlock perks, which in turn help you do better in the game. Some are really important, depending on what you want.”

“You kept a lot from me.” Malan said after the knowledge sank in and Madness babbling ceased to be that. “In a sense you stunted me, us both.” If merits were so important then not earning them was counterproductive.

Madness shook its head. “You were young, a god that didn’t understand what it meant to be a player in the game. If I’d tried to have told you all this, you would have run, ignored, and labeled me mad.” It said with the impression of a smile coming from its hounded figure. “Besides none of it was of any use to you, you wanted to continued existing as you are now. This form.”

“I still do,” Malan said. “And I will continue to be like this,” for that is who he is.

Madness spread its hands. “I understand favoring a certain perspective, but I want you to know, now that the end is here, what you want to achieve will never be permanent. Even if you conquer the realm, bring about the age of Wonder, eventually it will be swept away, as empires of great might have been before.”

Malan frowned as he mulled over the information revealed, his nature in turmoil. From what Madness had told him, everything he did and was going to do was fleeting. Worse, now that he was focused on the details, he couldn’t save anyone under his care.

“With the Cores we’re not allow to win, or by the sounds of it even play. What is going to be happen to my followers?” It was a dimwitted question, he already knew the outcome, but Madness voice it anyways.

“They will die and linger in the Glen for a time.” It answered. “Their part in the game done unless a pantheon makes an avatar for them to inhabit. Which isn’t likely to happened given what comes next,” Madness stated. “Getting back to the original question, once the lesser lights merge into one, thus signaling the next phase. The enemy’s strength will increase two-fold, making any lasting resistance that had held out begin to buckle.”

Madness laughed: “It’s common for empires to sequester themselves in colossal stone labyrinths of arcane craft to hold against the endless tides. It always works initially, getting the mortals and major pantheons to think themselves safe.” Madness smashed its hands on the table. “Then bam, the enemy begins to cleave through everything. Then.” It giggled. “They realize to late they’d boxed themselves and have no means of escape.”

The holder of knowledge sighed mirthfully. “They last a good while, but they fall. See,” it said leaning over the table. “The next phase is a race, when the lesser lights merge into one bright beacon it randomly sends out lines of light. All aimed at areas of land which become bastions from the enemy, it can’t intrude upon those areas, allowing the survivors to gather.”

Malan found himself only grieving at the news, he stopped trying to come up with a plan. The more heard, the more he should have understood from the very start what the end meant. There was no salvation to be found, only the running from the inevitable close the realm appeared designed to bring.

Madness didn’t remark on his note of resignation, it continued explaining with excited voices. “For another three months these bastions will remain, the last place where life can survive. Oh, by the way, mortals in that area will find themselves instantly healed of all ailments and wounds. Nor do they need to eat or sleep.” It chuckled, “there isn’t a need for any more of them to die at that point.” It added. “Anyhow, after three months portals will appear in the bastions, each leading to a lush sub realm where they are safe from the enemy. In fact, at that point, the enemy is no longer a concern, its part in the game is over.”

Malan leaned over the table, hands cupping his eyes as he rubbed them. “How many phases are their Madness?” He asked feeling tired.

“For us?” It questioned back. “None, that’s the end of our game, our followers will be on their own. For everyone else, two more, the last deciding the victor who in turn will earn a minimum of five merits and one free perk unlock of the divine tier. You can’t unlock those any other way.” Madness stated quickly as if he was interested in such a thing.

A silence fell over them afterwards, one Madness decide not to fill, so it stayed while he tried to accept the truths given to him. His nature was in protest, it pushed at him to act, to save, to do something to stop the massacre that was to come.

And he tried, divines his tried, but his mind was coming up blank. The end, the end, it was the end. Malan sniffed, coughed, he tried to hold it in, but it was no use. It was too much; he began to shake. “Oh Malan,” Madness whispered as it quickly rose from its seat. By the time it reached his side muffed crying had begun. His palms pressed heavily on his eyes, glowing tears running free.

“Let it out.” Madness spoke softly, its voices that of mothers. “Come to terms that sometimes there’s nothing that can be saved.”

He barely heard the words as he stopped struggling and wailed openly, letting himself sulk over the table as Madness hovered over him, wrapping him into a hug. “This is another reason why I waited, you would have worn yourself raw trying to prevent this, to save as many as you could. In my view your nature is a curse, and I wonder at times why you endure it.”

“It keeps me focused.” He forced out. “My sight clear on a realm worth having.” Everyone happy, needs meet, minds free to explore new ideas, create wonders that bolstered the joy of existence. “You should understand,” he said mournfully. “This library should be a reflection of all I fight to stop.” A place of endless conflict, meaningless deficiencies, struggle that got in the way of creation. “I’m sure it’s mostly full of war, death, and barbaric confrontations.”

Madness chuckled, one of its hands petting his mane. “Not all that inaccurate, but the realm is made to be such. Through limitations true inspiring works are born to overcome the challenges.” It sighed. “Infinite possibilities, endless resources, they can cause stagnation in their own way, to many things in the way, to many distractions.”

“So you see suffering a better way?” He asked through his sobs, and pushed himself up.

Madness moved with him, wrapping its arms around his neck and resting its head on top of his own. “Oh Malan, every time you say that word you tempt me.” It said, a hint of annoyance leaking through its voices. “Goad me to allow you to experience ----

A hushed silence fell and for a moment Madness went stiff. The oddity passed as quickly as it had come, but it left Madness breathing heavy. “Never mind,” it said seconds later, and kissed him on the scalp before separating.

It manifested another chair, this one placed by his sight and Madness sat next to him. “I believe conflict the better tool to motivate people.” It said, “to encourage creativity, if sometimes the challenge seems a little steep.” It shrugged. “So be it, it’s a temporary matter, one that will be replaced as quickly as it had come.”

Malan scoffed, wiping his eyes that refused to cease creating tears, he wasn’t feeling any better, the core of his nature kept prodding him. He would have to act on it, try at the very least to save, even though thinkingly he knew there would be no such thing. “That’s easy for you to say,” Malan voiced. “You’re not the one to endure the trail, to experience the hardship.”

Madness shook its head. “You assume I’ve always been this form, but I haven’t, I to have faced trails, overcome them, and often failed them. Yet that means nothing, we are eternal, existence goes on no matter our choice.” It looked at him. “The mortals will suffer now; they will die as they have done numerous times before. But time will pass, the realm will heal, a new session will start and the dead will live again.”

Malan coughed, used that bit of information to push back his nature. ‘They will live again.’ He told himself. ‘Death is only temporary.’ With a gurgled voice he asked: “What happens after, when the session is done?”

Madness took a moment or two to answer. “In the sub realm, a light will bloom from the epicenter, it will reset any damage done to the land, and instantly kill the remaining mortals. The gods not in possession of a Core will vanish as well. The Sovereigns, or consciences as you would call it, will be forced out and everyone will wait for the realm to heal. As for the main realm, it’s the same process. The fused lesser lights will pulse out a destructive wave cleansing the land of the enemy. Then separate back into three lights and return to their normal pattern, same with the Light of lights.”

“And for us?” he wheezed; his nature not taking the news well.

“We wait like everyone else, save we kept our forms, and continue to amass Devotion.” Madness answered, then took hold of his right hand, leaned closer, and offered comfort. “The wait is normally two hundred years, during that time I sleep, I’ll show you how when its needed.”

“Afterward it starts again then?” He asked. “Like nothing ever happened, everyone clueless to the civilizations that came before?”

“Not completely.” Madness countered. “The structurers of the civilizations remain, those that hadn’t been shattered by the enemy trying to reach mortals. So those reborn will know there was something from before, it even quickens the process of rebuilding as the souls find knowledge and insight from the wreckage of strongholds.”

“And on it goes.” Malan mumbled through his moaning, he would be able to start anew, the land free of all his rivals, while he would be in the perfect position to restart his religion.

Madness nodded at his words. “You will do well in the next session, might even become a major religion to contend with.

“I will.” Malan said as he sniffed. “With my pantheon of Core holders there won’t be anything to stop us,” Madness gazed at him questioningly, in turn he sent visions of what he’d used his saved-up Devotion for.

The entity began to laugh. “Oh that’s going to be fun to watch, if.” Madness said heavily emphasizing the word. “They stay with you.”

“For a time they will.” Malan replied, gripping Madness hand tightly.

The two of them remained silent, both lost in thoughts for a few minutes. His old friend ended it first. “You do relieve nothing will change, that you’re not playing the game right.”

From the knowledge given he knew his friend meant the collection of merits, and the rewards they offered. “No matter how well I do I can’t prevent the end, nor can I win, I can’t even earn rewards needed to strengthen myself.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Madness informed. “When the session comes to a close, all with Cores are given the option to remove them, and return to earning merits. They also lose their forms of course, start anew like any other Sovereign.”

Malan sneered. “I’m not going back to being a mortal, or a helpless soul, it would take me ages to cultivate a religion around myself without that supply of Devotion.” Last time he’d gotten lucky being bestowed a Source core for a short time, make him a God to rival all others.

“Then rejoice,” Madness said in its cheerful voices. “Those days are behind you, were the moment you achieved godhood. You are a Sovereign now, when you end, your form gone. You will wait like the rest to take on the role of a new deity the mortals manifest. With all its restrictive strengths, weaknesses, and nature.”

“I like the way I am.” Malan half hissed, even if at times his empathy got the better of him.

Madness leaned close. “It doesn’t have to be permanent, just a few sessions to unlock some perks to bolster yourself. After you can pick what kind of god you wish to take the form of, and wait for a mortals to form a religion that meets your criteria. Or,” Madness said. “You can do the method you first mentioned. There’s no risk in experimenting Malan, the game encourages it, it’s all supposed to be for entertainment after all.”

“I don’t find myself entertained.” Malan said, not right now, not with the prospect of a coming end he was helpless to stop.

“We all have parts we like and dislike,” Madness spoke. “But they pass.”

He grunted, understanding Madness view, since the concept had been planted into his mind. His friend thought in the terms of forever, while he still thought in a frame more closely linked with mortals. Decades and centuries, not infinity.

Perhaps it was time to change that, to broaden the scope of his goal. To plan as a being that was forever. If Madness wisdom was true, he didn’t need the Core anymore. He’d reached some form of threshold that held him up above his existence before. Wonder may not come today or tomorrow, nor in the centuries to come, but as long as he existed, worked towards the goal. Then one day it would.

The thought calmed him, lessened his shivering, but didn’t remove it. His nature wasn’t going to stop, he knew his followers were in danger. One they couldn’t avoid, it compelled him to act in their benefit.

Taking a deep breath, Malan forced himself to calm, the act only achieved given the worse of his anxiety had been expelled through the tears. “Thank you for the wisdom Madness.” He spoke.

“Happy to share,” It replied. “And now that you know the scope of what is to come, I hope you understand what my original words meant.” It looked at him. “The cheering of those we wish to win.”

“Yes I understand,” he said, pressing his shoulder against Madness own. “Thing is I don’t have anyone to cheer, none I care about can win.”

“Not yet,” it added. “But we’ll get to watch the show, see the one to claim the rod of victory.”

“I’ll cheer on anyone who isn’t Wargain then.” Malan said as a thought took him. “And if I can’t win, can’t save my followers, then I will make it my mission to stop Wargain. I’ll sabotage his plans, be in the way of his every move. I’ll ensure he will be as weak as possible when the final phase comes.”

“That’s the spirit.” Madness voices said thrilled. “And I agree, he’s a book burner, I don’t want him to win either.” It began to giggle. “Got to say, we’ll be quite the nuisance for him.”

“We?” Malan asked. “You’re going to interact with the realm?” That was a rare thing indeed, so much so he wasn’t sure if Madness had any living followers left.

“It’s the end,” Madness half shrugged. “Might as well spend my stores of Devotion to get some well-earned vengeance.” It leaned forward, glasses and pitcher floating in the air, once both filled, one floated to his side and he took it.

“I’m going to need some help preparing a ritual.” Madness said looking back at him. “If you don’t mind?”

He smiled. “I’ll help you with anything you need.”

Madness raised its glass. “May the end take him.” It said, and Malan followed suit clinking their glasses together. “And all that follow him.” He added, mind spinning with plans.