The next day, a shrouded Cyoc wandered through a dark pathway, the walls rumbled around him as he slowly descended further down the path. To his side walked the military captain overseeing many operations throughout the city of Direfell and the regions around it. Roch’s expression was one of concern and caution, his face mostly hidden behind his own cloak.

“You’re curious about it, aren’t you?” The elder Cyoc asked, a slight grin revealing itself, “I heard from Reimar that you’re quite interested in what we’ve got buried beneath this place…”

“Oh heavens, never,” Roch said with a sigh, “I know my limits, and I’m not interested in looking too much at something I’m not allowed to see.”

“A wise decision,” Cyoc replied, “Be that as it may, Reimar and I believe it best to bring you up to date so that you can be prepared for the coming war.”

“War? I knew we had some issues, but a war that even you would be preparing for?” Roch grunted as he spoke, “I would’ve thought we’d be ready for anything, even a full-scale war. Who are our enemies?”

“Mythgarde’s noble factions, for starters,” Cyoc answered with a straight to the point approach. “However be careful, I’ve foreseen a more unpredictable enemy lurking within the shadows. What is happening now has been foretold for many years, a sort of prophecy.”

“Prophecy?” Roch seemed shocked at this as he froze in place. “It’s true that we’ve had more issues as of late, but I don’t think I’m seeing the bigger picture.”

The elder Cyoc stopped next to Roch, turning his gaze toward him. “Nothing is without reason. The removal of the Orion clan’s influence throughout our city was but one part of the plan, but that is nowhere close to being the main event.”

Cyoc lifted his hand up to his nose, tapping it, “Think about it, what else has happened since we’ve gotten here? This tower itself is valuable, but is that all?”

“What else?” Roch pondered for a moment before his expression turned grim. “You’re not saying that the kid is somehow important, are you? He’s an amateur… a coincidence.”

“Is he?” Cyoc challenged, “Widen your thinking, my student. I helped you achieve your power, but power wasn’t the only thing I’ve given you, is it?”

Roch did as he was instructed and thought through everything, trying to piece together something viable from the pile of useless information he already had. “Well if our reports are to be believed, it seems that the kid Deus was able to use Mir… but so what? Is that so revolutionary?”

Cyoc could only give a light chortle as he listened, remaining silent.

“I’m afraid I still don’t fully understand…” Roch lowered his head as he pondered over everything. “So everything is related? Deus, Orion, Mythgarde… even this tower?”

“Mhm,” Cyoc simply nodded his head in response. He quickly returned to his original pace as he made his way down the long corridor, Roch followed behind him.

They continued walking in silence for some time, minutes passed by quickly as there seemed to be no end to their journey.

The corridor was dark and twisting, with no real end in sight. The air was still and quiet, with the occasional rumbling that seemed to shake the walls being the only exception. With each upset, small grains of sand poured out through the walls, forming small piles of rough sand on the ground.

Cyoc lowered his hood as his head lifted upward to face a large wall, a dead end.

“Tell me, Roch, have you ever been down here before?”

Roch shook his head, “No, I’ve been to the tower but I never had a reason to come down this far.”

“Excellent. I’m pleased to know that I’m going to be the first one to show this to you… a weapon that we’ve been stashing, hiding it away from the rest of the world.”

“So this is the weapon you’ve always spoken of?” Roch looked forward, his sight falling onto the rough wall of stone and sand in front of him. He wasn’t convinced, he knew that it was some sort of illusion or trick put in place to protect whatever secrets lied beyond.

Cyoc whispered as his arm stretched out. Strange etchings formed across his limb, burning of an odd light, “Pavar sixil caarth.”

A low-toned whistle sounded from all around them as the sand and dust began to kick up, forming a light breeze that echoed throughout the tunnel. The stone wall that lied before them slowly began to pull apart, as if forming into liquid and simply falling away.

“This ability…” Roch murmured out as he watched. He knew that Mir had many uses, and had even utilized many of said uses, but without a doubt, he also knew that there was still much to learn.

“When I use the Mir… I use it more as if it’s some form of a prayer… but that seemed to be a complete incantation,” Roch spoke out, hoping to receive some sort of guidance from his elder.

Cyoc simply laughed, “Indeed, the use of incantations provides the user many more abilities, including more passive powers. You don’t need to give a prayer just to open a door, but you do need to wield the ancient words to prove yourself.”

They entered further in, past the opened passage.

Roch lifted his head as he walked in, his breath frozen in shock as he looked around the room, his attention falling immediately upon the massive monolith that sat, chained, in the middle.

A blood red beating heart, heavy chains formed out of it, carving themselves deep into the earth around them from all corners. It was massive, approximately forty meters high and over half that wide, and yet it continued to beat and pump blood, with no vessel in sight.

“Wh-what in the heavens is that…” Roch stuttered out, even he was frightened to the core.

“This is Midnight’s last hope. The last surviving God.” Cyoc Scoporus grinned from ear to ear as he turned to face Roch. A vile expression blended together with his eagerness as if he had tapped into true madness.

“This is what caused the fall of Enshil, my friend. This is what caused the end of everything. It will also bring us back to our glory,” Cyoc patted Roch’s shoulder, “We have the heart, now all we need is the vessel capable of sustaining it, and then we’ll use it to strike down the empire.”

“We’ve been buried in the past, lost in history. The empire destroyed us, wiped our entire world of almost all life and left us a husk of ourselves. Enshil sought to return to before, but they were discovered too early and were destroyed.”

“How did you get…” Roch asked, unable to fully get his question off his tongue.

“That isn’t important now, what is important is grooming the vessel, protecting it, and ensuring it will be ready by the time the heart is fully restored.”

“Vessel? What vessel? What in the hell are you talking about?” Roch had practically gone mad, his tone shifting from violent to insane seemingly within the same breathe.

“What vessel? The vessel. I told you, everything fits together, one mighty prophecy predicted by the heavens, by the masters who seek to return to the ancient age.”

The captain seemed to have a light flash in his mind as he realized what Cyoc had meant.

“You intend to put that thing...” he pointed with a shaken finger at the beating heart, “Into that kid, Deus? Are you completely and absolutely mad? I’ve seen my fair share of wild and crazed tales, but this…”

“You speak as if it’s impossible—as if it’ll never work… but it has been guaranteed by my betters. Even Reimar has to simply follow along, playing the role he’s been given. This is beyond you, my old friend.”

With a deep and pronounced rumble, Cyoc spoke out, “You’re either with us, or you’re against us. I cannot permit any mishaps, not even if it’s you.”

“Does it have to be so black and white?” Roch questioned as he took a solid step backward.

“Oh my dear friend, I’m afraid it does,” Cyoc turned away, facing the heart as if listening to each palpitation, the tremors seemingly calming him. “The Mir itself bends and breaks under it, leaving nothing left. Authority means nothing, but not just anyone can wield this power.”

“Ages ago, many years before you or even I were born, a group of old, ancient demons sought to overthrow the current regime, to cast out the empire that now holds our world of Midnight hostage. They plotted everything, from obtaining this grand weapon to even the birth of a vessel capable of serving as our God.”

Roch straightened his back as he questioned, “What makes you so certain that he’s your God, though? I truly hope it’s not just because of his name, because from what I’ve heard that name was chosen at random by some faun.”

“Of course not, that was more of an ironic coincidence than anything. I’m certain because my masters created him, forged him from a burned world and sent him to us,” Cyoc lifted his own arm into the air in front of him as he said, “I know he’s the one because we share a similar scar. A familiar rune.”