In his slowly opening eyes, the gilded ceiling appeared. Countless carvings shifted as he stared, intertwining into living legends of times long passed. He could clearly see the depictions of the aspects, the mothers and fathers of all there is and ever was; of their first children, himself included, as they trod through the very beginning of time; and above all else, he saw Ignis, the first flame and creator of all there was, had been and would be.

Coursing, his gaze travelled along those lines as he struggled to recognise himself, in the state of knowing he was present, yet incapable of accurately remembering who or what he was. A gruelling task since he could not even begin to recall who he was in the first place. All memories of the past were hazy, buried deep.

After a long period of time, he gave up the futile effort, standing up from his gilded throne. Quickly he realised the extra pressure weighing down his neck and touched the item resting upon his head. Immediately the memory of the beautiful gilded crown was recalled into his mind. Its beautiful jewellery imbued into the unearthly metal as they brilliantly shone. Or at least they used to once upon a time. That brilliance was mostly gone as merely the last 2 of the unfathomable gems were still garnished by that dazzling glow. The rest were dead and bleak. Despite that, its beauty and attraction were still unbearable to him. Even though the Crown already rested upon his head he still craved to possess it, a woeful desire which defied logic.

Newly finding great vigor, he decided to walk down the pedestal which lead up to his throne. The large steps slightly bent beneath his weight as he gradually reached the bottom. The gargantuan gate in front of him opened of its own accord as he trod, finding himself inside a hall of size scaled to the giant gate. The ceiling was far higher up than that of a cathedral and more gilded carvings traversed through it, though the images they depicted were different than those in the throne room. The walls were built of some sort of metal which glittered under the shine omnipresent in the room. Upon lowering his gaze it was impossible to not notice the countless valiant sculptures, at least hundreds of them, spreading from corner to corner with perfect symmetry and accurate placements. Although most of the hall was taken up by them, the pattern still had about enough place for about 2 more right in front of the gate.

Surrounding him were countless humanoids, flashing past him at mind-numbing speeds. Despite that, he could notice their visages and forms in detail as he took his casual stroll. At speed visible to the naked eye they grew old and then disappeared only to be replaced by other beings which too stumbled around for a while before disappearing. All of them avoided him as he trod through the hall, no one as much as coming close. After some time he reached an edge of the hall where one of the countless doorways lied, though that one was special. He was not sure why, but there was a strange attraction to it. An irresistible allure telling him to step through.

Even as he walked through the door the only sight that welcomed him was a seemingly endless hallway. Rows of portraits lined both walls, many of them familiar, though he could not quite place where he had seen them. It did not take long to recognise that some of the men and women were the same as those depicted by the statutes in the previous room.

Entering into the next room after his long walk through the hall, he found himself at crossroads. One way lead down a stairwell while the other would bring him to a small balcony. Other than that the rest of the area was surprisingly unimpressive. No colourful paintings nor other decorations lined the walls, even the glittering metal seemed duller. Naturally, his feet moved towards the stairway not long after entering the boring place.

Yet as soon as he did that, a surge of aggravation rose within his head. Voices shouting and demanding he instead chose the balcony. Dazing compulsion to not walk down those stairs. His very being revolted against that original decision.

Obstructed by those sensations he obtained a moment of clarity. He recalled his power and position. And although his own name and identity still eluded him, his mind was quickly taken over by the arrogance of his realisation. His chest rose in pride and a smirk was born on his previously shallow face. Suddenly the metal wall no longer glittered because of the light, but for him. The omnipresent gloom itself was, after all, shining as hard as it could to show its allegiance and servitude.

Under those circumstances, those feelings were only natural. After all, he was the mightiest of all things living or dead. The monarch dreaded by all. The undisputed overlord, undefiable, unbendable. He could crack realms with a flick of his finger and wipe out civilisations with a thought.

And resting on the vertex of his skull sat the proof of his status. That alluring crown of immaculate beauty. Its image became far clearer in his head, down to the smallest detail as a sudden burst of sorrow struck him over the many lifeless jewels which had lost their glimmer. He felt true woe for a short moment, though it soon abated.

Not dwelling on that emotion for long, his gaze was redirected towards the balcony. Its thin gilded guardrails were surrounded by distinct emptiness. It was as though clouds completely enveloped the opening as they littered the vast skies.

Despite that, he stepped forward, and soon enough he saw the world unfold before his very eyes. As soon as his feet stepped onto the balcony he could see everything. Every nook and crook of the universe. Every secret hidden from sight and every sight hidden in secret.

Smouldering within their stars, he could clearly see the great Empyreans. Sense all the millions of them scattered along the universe. And they also felt his stare. Despite their eternal stillness, they each shook beneath his glare before it shifted.

Out of pure fear his next victims fled in all directions. The demons of the void, trying to hide within the dark creaks of their vast domain, yet none could escape his gaze. Usually unafraid even in the face of death, they could only tremble. Even their ever proud overlords didn't dare to not scatter and tremble as his eyes landed on them.

Of course, his following victims were the gods. Abominations as bad as monsters in his eyes, worse in fact, and despite all their power and followers, not any braver either. They sealed their domains shut in a futile attempt to shield themselves from what could not be stopped. Like frightened children, the ever arrogant deities were frozen in place.

Next his gaze scoured through what was known as the prime material plane. A planet of mostly water with a few stains of land. Yet as he looked its weakness seemed pathetic in comparison to his previous targets. Among the countless beings few even noticed his stare, and those who did often dismissed it completely, blissfully unaware just what was gazing at them. There was merely a single exception: A middle-aged man with a mane of ebony hair. Perhaps common at first glance the man was the exact opposite as the moment the stare landed upon him he ceased whatever he had been doing and knelt down as a show of his humility.

Intrigued, his eyes dwelled on the man for a few moments longer before his gaze once again moved on. No matter who it was, the observer’s attention was far too fleeting. Finally, the stare passed along the river of countless souls as they passed on from their mortal shells into the faraway realms of their reincarnation.

Within those uncountable realms, monarchs reigned. Each entitled to a dominion of their own where nothing could dispute them. Despite that they all covered on top of their gilded thrones. None of them dared as much as move under the scrutiny of that gaze.

In fact, not everyone covered. There was once again a single exception. A man with a gilded crystal imbued into his forehead. He alone dared stare back defiantly with a smug smile at his translucent lips. A gesture infuriatingly fearless to the arrogant beholder. Unbearably infuriating.

Like that newfound wrath, his might gathered at the balcony, lingering in the air as unnatural winds wailed, banging on the structure’s walls. Brilliant golden flames ruffled, melting reality itself in that blinding light while the balcony miraculously evaded utter annihilation. On top of his palm arose a shape, a sphere of burning gild. Although the distance between him and the defiant soul was vast nothing was beyond his reach. Not while the crown rested on top of his head.

Laughter escaped his lips, mad yet furious. He could and would crush that defiant existence with a flick of his finger. He had the power none could defy. After all, he was the indefectible, the immortal and the almighty being, having the Crown as the proof.

Knowledge suddenly burst forth from within him one more. Of the Spire, the greatest construction ever built in all of history. The tower atop which he stood and from which he reigned. So tall its bottom was the only thing in the universe he could not see from its balcony.

In perhaps an attempt to confirm that realisation he let go of the gathered might, allowing it to disperse into the already fragile surroundings. As his eyes wandered downwards the rails around his suddenly shone, not any less brilliantly than the flames before as they began to gobble up the loose power, as ravenous as starved beasts.

Lingering no longer, his eyes reached down into the impenetrable mist of magic beneath him. At first he wondered what was down bellow, yet the next moment he came to realise that he already knew precisely. The Valley, foundation upon which the tower was built. The one place where he was not allowed to see. After all, he was just a vessel, a sacrifice to keep the crown temporarily in check in its gilded cage known as the Spire.

Laughable, he immediately thought. He was the sovereign of all reality. Nothing could hold him, much less imprison him. The tower was his throne, of that he was certain and thus the previous ridiculous illusion was quickly dismissed. His eyes once again swept through the universe laid bare before him, no longer recalling what he was doing before.

To his great surprise, upon attempting to turn around he came to realise that his legs would strangely not move properly. Prompted to investigate he looked down, only to see a large hole in the left side of his chest, gushing blood down his clothing and into an already sizable puddle on the ground. His legs gave way and the body could no longer support itself, collapsing on the back while smashing his already dizzy head. Above him stood his killer, an ebony-haired young man, looking down with a bloodied blade in his steady hands and a sorrowful smile on his lips.

Harrowing realisation suddenly set in when the bleeding monarch noticed the lack of weight on his head. With a quick quiver, his eyes darted around the room, desperately looking for that item of endless allure and affection. It took merely a moment to spot it, the symbol of his glory and the love of his heart: That beautiful jewelled crown. Despite the unfamiliar sensation he felt at the death’s door his hand still moved towards it, desperately grasping from within his pool of blood.

“Enough!” a voice from above commanded as a boot stepped on his outreaching wrist, just short of touching that thing of beauty, “I apologise for my late arrival,” the speaker's empty hand slipped to the forehead of the former monarch who now bled on the ground, “Remember, brother. For the last time.”

Suddenly a thunder raged through his mind as he remembered. Who he was and what was his purpose. Finally, the pain of his pierced heart set in, but that much could be borne by him as he gave his brother a weak smile. Realising its meaning, the black-haired youth released his boot, allowing his dying brother to grab the crown firmly. A new shimmer of power shook the air, many times as potent as the one before, invoking golden flames which engulfed the dying man’s body. Tendrils of magic slithered like vipers along his arms, as the newfound inferno burned away the blood, fueling the gathering vortex even further.

Then in an instant it seemingly all vanished. For a moment silent tranquillity engulfed the room only so that it could be broken an instant later. With a deafening boom, the transcendent power erupted once more, only far more condensed, concentrated. There was no longer a pool of blood beneath the dying man whose skin had become wrinkled and decayed nor was there his former arrogance. He merely held the Crown in his feeble hand, staring at the two still vibrantly glowing jewels. And on one of those jewels, it gathered. All his power, the very essence of his being concentrated at that one point.

And the jewel cracked. The gem shattered into millions of fine shards, bursting outwards at incomprehensible speeds. Yet they were not allowed to get far when they halted and were drawn back into their socket, reforming with just a single minor difference: It no longer shone, rather it was just as dead and bleak as most of the other jewels. “Just one last time and our burden will be over,” the black-haired youth picked up the Crown from the dried-up husk on the ground, “Soon enough, this accursed device will be gone,” he then hesitated for a short moment and put the crown on his head, “‘Till our duty is complete at last, brother,” he spoke the parting words towards the dead man before a strange haze also overtook his mind, marching him back into the throne room.

[Reaching the end of life. Logos wishes you the best of luck in the next]

[Entering the realms of souls. Determining allocation… Overwritten by Overseer… set to Hell]