Synthesis Fundamentum

It was Rūpa and Nāma who embodied Physicality and Spirituality, and they were first to shape Elyziæ, for they understood best the play of Essence within the Elements. Before the first wind stirred, before the first fire cracked, before stone was laid or tide withdrew, they wandered in their new awareness. “What are we?” asked Nāma. “I know we are shaped of the Four Elements,” said Rūpa. “For I see my limbs and feel my weight, and so I know I exist for I see my form.” A soft breeze touched them, as if their words had awakened the world. “I have no limbs such as yours,” said Nāma. “How then do I know I am?” Rūpa paused until the next breeze passed. “Did you not feel that coolness?” “I felt only its pleasure,” said Nāma. “I felt a thought arising, and the naming of it. That is all I have felt, and all I am, Nāma.” Rūpa pondered. “Then you know yourself through thought, as I through form. We move together, yet not in the same way, I in Elements, you in Essence.” “Are they not one?” Nāma asked. “If they were,” said Rūpa, “then we would feel the same breeze in the same way. But you taste its joy, while I feel its cold.” And in that moment, they first understood and wandered further to understand even more. With the raise of a single hand, a mountain emerged from the earth. “What is that you see, Nāma? For I see a mountain, hewn of stone and ice. Its tip, piercing the heavens and its shadow swallowing the valley. Adorned by snow, and embedded within are rivers that serve as its veins. It stands in weight and in height.” “That is not at all what I am perceiving. I see not stone, but an ancient symbol that will serve generations upon generations. It will watch over and protect those who seek it to do that, and it will be a challenge to overcome to those who seek to do that as well.” They walk into the valley and are greeted by a drumming sound. “Tell me then Rūpa, what did you perceive? For I heard the heartbeat of a newborn world. The first stirring in endless quiet. A remembering that, whatever it was, may move and speak aloud their nature.” Rūpa chuckled, “I find it admirable that you might find such beauty in such mundane things. For it was nothing more than a stone losing itself from the mountain’s face and striking the hollow earth below.” They wandered further, embracing what Elyziæ had to offer them. “That smell, it’s magnificent”, Rūpa mentions. “I must agree, though I reckon for a different reason.” “That you are right in. From the dry heart of the soil, and the trees resin bleeding into the air. The scent is most wonderful.” “To me, it is the breath of the world exhaled for the first time. A sign that Elyziæ stirs in its cradle. The rising fragrance feels like a promise of beauty.” A patch of berries is growing in a bush nearby, and Rūpa, curious of its taste, softly plucks one and lays it gently on their tongue. “From the bush that clung to the unshaped hill came a single berry, heavy with the sun’s warmth. Its skin burst beneath the first bite, spilling sweetness that filled my mouth and left my tongue stained with its dye.” And just like before, Nāma responded, “To me, dear Rūpa, it's the drawing of joy. The first knowing that the world holds delight in even something as small as a singular berry. It is not merely the taste of fruit, but the realization that life will feed us in ways beyond hunger.” They continued their walk, and neared their final observation ere the arrival of the others. A stream carved itself through the mountain, and made its way to the lowest point in the valley. It is a gentle one, where one could bathe and relax for hours. As they walked in, they were enamoured by its touch. “The stream, newly born from the melting snow, wound its way down the slope. Its water clutches at the skin with a cold so pure it seemed a thing alive, pressing against flesh, curling between fingers and toes, and making one as light as a feather.” “But do you not then feel the touch of Elyziæ’s laughter, spilling from the mountain’s crown to greet the rest of the world. In its playful tug I feel the world inviting us forward, as if to say:’ Cometh my child, there is more yet to be found’.” At last, right before the others made their Descent, they determined what their domains would be. “I shall open my body, and hold Six gates. That of the eye, the ear, the nose, the tongue, the body and a bridge to you, my dear Nāma.” “And I shall do the same, but I will not have a bridge back. For my Six gates are that of sights, sounds, smells, tastes, sensations and visions. But do not be fooled, for our Gates are in connection and will form the base for every who wander Elyziæ.” It was then that they had all seen and experienced what the other could not. Each finding in each other’s vision a truth their own could not hold. And thus the world was not only made, it was known.

It was Bahamut and Tiamat who embodied Good and Evil, and they were second to shape Elyziæ, for they understood best the play of Balance of Nature. It was when they entered the atmosphere, opposed to their landing, that they took shape and therefore grew wings close in resemblance to Caellus. And they continued their descent upon the waters, each on opposite shores of Elyziæ. Their mighty plunge moved the depths, casting aside the heavy seas and raising great waves that overflowed the lands, setting the high tides in motion. When the water withdrew, they stood amidst the low tides, beholding the wondrous beauty of Elyziæ. They watched in awe, but could not remain still. For they were pulled to each other by a deep feeling of angst come about their separation. Motivated by the thought of reunion, both moved forward, bringing along the tides with them. They marched on through the deep oceans and hereby reshaped the land, which was singular and vast. The tides broke away the earth and separated the land in continents, which were pushed away from each other. But still, Bahamut and Tiamat marched on, forever longing for their other half. But the shaping of Elyziæ was not yet complete. From the heavens made the one known as Sol and the one known as Luna their descent. In their landing, they separately took mastery of the Elements. Sol embraced Fire and Stone and became an unyielding pillar of flame that burned away darkness and brought forth day. Luna, on the other hand, embraced Water and Stone and became a cool and serene vessel that sheds gentle light upon the night. Then by the grace of wind, they rose to the skies and found their place in the heavens as Sun and Moon. And as the Moon pursued the Sun across the heavens, a divine chase began that relieved Bahamut and Tiamat of theirs. Though this would not last forever, a time would come when the Sun would seek the Moon, reversing the ancient and eternal pursuit. It would even be so, that when one catches the other, the heavens would darken and a Starless Night would fall, and all things would tremble beneath its shadow. And lo, while the skies were thus claimed by the new dancers, Bahamut and Tiamat were released from their endless hunt upon the seas and found their meeting once more upon the land of Elyziæ. No longer torn by distance, but reunited in form and name, they stood together and spoke. “Once, in Other and in Rest, we were one. Why does it now feel different, as if you are my opposite instead of my half, my dear Tiamat.” “I felt it then, Bahamut, and I had hoped to feel it now. Alas we are now cast as light and shadow, we stand as strangers, each bearing a Nature unfit for the other.” “How has it come to be then, that I ever longed for you, and ever chased for you during our time in the waters.” Tiamat pondered, but not for too long. “Is it perhaps so, that you can be both my opposite and my half. Is it not that Good and Evil are like the tides; restless and everchanging.” “You would be right dearest, and that would mean that, no matter how high the wave, there will be an equally low wave to balance it out”, Bahamut replied. They both pondered for a while, allowing time to pass to gain a better understanding of their domains, until Bahamut broke the silence. “Though we will be perceived as foes, perhaps we are more so reflections. Good will not exist without Evil and vice versa. Without shadow, light will not be known, nor can Good be understood without Evil.” “Indeed, dear Bahamut, and let us remember that the world does not stand still. It is through the push and pull of our natures, much like the restless tides, that the land is shaped and the soul is forged. Good and Evil are not chains but currents, flowing one into the other.” “Then allow us to flow as well, and not bound ourselves by rigid forms. What will be deemed cruel may, in time, reveal to be a mercy unseen. And what might shine a clear path for one, might cast a looming shadow over another.” “It is then that we realize that we are not estranged halves, but have been the subject of the currents we reside about. As a living balance we are ever changing and ever entwined.” It was then that they had realized their place in the world and their role as shepherds. As each planned to make their own way, they engaged in one last act of affection, which was as beautiful as it was sad. For it would be the last time until the end of times, where they would know neutrality in their interactions.

It was Abbellus and Caine who embodied Virtus and Peccatum, and they were third to shape Elyziæ, for they understood best the play of Principle in Freedom. At this point Elyziæ was nearing the end of the Primaris Epoch and nearly all had descended upon its plains. The air was fresh and clean of pollution, the mountains stood tall and were eroded to perfection, the rivers ran smooth and broke through the countryside like perfectly laid out roads. “I commend thee all of thine effort, our Lord-Father must be pleased”, Abbellus spoke to a gathering of Primunati. Caine stood aback, leaning against an elm tree rolling his eyes at his brother’s words. Abbellus walked closer to the gathered group and spoke to the one in the middle. “And what might your name be, so that I can give proper kindness.” The individual stepped forward and bowed his head for Abbellus, who was twice his size, “I go by the name of Chamuel, my lord.” Abbellus allowed his hand to rest on Chamuel’s shoulder, “Please rise, I am not your lord for we were all born equally in the eyes of Caellus.” As Chamuel rose, Abbellus continued, “Your work, as well as that of your brethren, is most magnificent and will surely be much appreciated by our Lord-Father, please spread the word of kindness and inform the others of their excellence.” Chamuel nodded and waved some of his brothers to him. Together, they propelled themselves in the air and flew to spread the kindness given to them by Abbellus. A shadow passed across the face of Caine as he slowly walked over to his brother. “Or not”, he proclaims whilst slowly clapping, “you see the lands might be filled with beauty, it is the sky where our Lord-Father will roam, and it is the sky that is empty.” Abbellus turns around to his brother in a singular motion, “Perhaps so, but that does not negate the work that has been done on the ground.” “No, of course not, they did a wonderful job. Unfortunately for them, it won’t matter.” Abbellus gently puts his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “You should see the positive more often brother, be patient and you shall see.” “Perhaps you are right brother, but that does not solve the issue of empty skies. Shall we take lead on the building of great pillars and sky palaces.” Abbellus leans back and shakes his head. “Do you not think clear skies will bring him peace, and for temples, well I hardly presume our Lord-Father to be prideful.” “Do you not wish to honour him then?” Abbellus’ head tilts away as he looks into the far distance. “Have you considered that he might consider Elyziæ in its entirety his temple.” Now it was Caine’s turn to look away into the distance. “Fine, have your way. We have more matters to attend to anyways.” He forcefully grabs his brother by the shoulder in a half-joking manner. “Let’s roam around and enjoy what Elyziæ has to offer before our Lord-Father descents and makes us work for the rest of eternity.” Before Abbellus could protest, he was already being dragged along by his brother. A short while passes as they wander through a dense forest. Shafts of light fracture through the leaves and light the path ahead. The air was thick with the scent of moss and old earth, whispering secrets only the patient might hear. Abbellus slowed, letting the quiet speak for a moment before breaking it with a gentle voice. “Caine, do you see how the trees offer their shade freely, neither asking nor expecting reward? Their kindness is woven into the very fabric of their being.” Caine scoffed, eyes fixed on a twisted root gnarled like a clenched fist. “You are really going to lecture me about kindness are you. I see it as a weakness in you brother. Kindness never comes freely. You might think to give it as such, but even then you lie to yourself. Even if it's the want of being liked, you still use kindness as a currency.” Abbellus lowers himself at the base of the tree and sits down against it. “Would it do you that much harm to perform an act of kindness without expectation of a reward, or is it simply not in your nature to do so.” Caine balls his fist, “I guess it would be the latter, brother. For I would only act in kindness if you would ask me to”, he looks away into the deep forest, actively eye contact with his brother. Without a word he turns and rushes into the forest, only after disappearing in the foliage he called his brother, “Time to continue Abbellus.” The brothers climbed the gentle slope of an orchard hill, where the earth lay soft beneath a thick carpet of fallen leaves, each one a whisper of seasons past. All around them, branches bowed low, heavy with the weight of fruit. Swollen berries, glossy and ripe, beginning to be gathered. The orchard seemed a world unto itself, suspended between the breath of summer’s fullness and the patient hush of waiting. Abbellus stopped in awe of the quiet reverence of the place. His hand lifted slowly, fingers tracing invisible sigils in the air as though conjuring the unseen. “Look well, dear brother”, he ushered his brother’s gaze towards the valley of fruit. “upon this orchard ripe with bounty yet withholding its harvest. It yields not its sweetness at a careless hand’s demand. The earth, in its quiet wisdom, knows the worth of patience, as does the sun that caresses leaf and stem without scorching them to ash.” Caine’s gaze darted to the jeweled clusters, nostrils flaring with the scent of ripeness and raw hunger. A low chuckle trembled from his throat, sharp as the snap of dry branches. “And what of the fire that stirs within? What joy lies in fasting while the feast is but a rach away? Why not lest my roaring hunger that sings of living without restraint. Are we not to fulfill our own desires?” Abbelus stepped forward, “Temperance, brother.” Caine chuckles, “Call it however you wish, but to me it's nothing more than a cage forged from cold shadows, denying the spirit its rightful flame.” “A cage, or a sanctuary?” Abbellus asked back, “Consider the flame, Caine. Untended, it rages beyond control, consuming forest and field, hearth and home, leaving naught but ash and ruin in its wake. Yet when tended with care, it offers warmth and light, a steadfast bacon in the night. Temperance is the keeper of his fire, not to undermine it and rob it of its nature, but to guide its dance so it may serve without destroying.” A cruel twist played upon Caine’s lips, and his eyes glittered with restless hunger, sharp and throned as the brambles that lined the pathway. “You speak of care and waiting as if they were gifts, yet to me they are chains, robbing the spirit of life’s full savor. Your temperance calls for a controlled prison to dim in something’s true nature. I will not partake in that folly and satiate my desires whenever I am able to do so.” Abbellus’ hands clasped behind his back, his voice threaded with a melancholy deeper than the roots beneath their feet. “And yet, the storm that rages unchecked leaves nothing but desolation. The glutton who plucks every fruit, who tastes without reverence or pause, finds the orchard barren come winter’s frost. Temperance is the promise of the season, the wisdom that teaches the soul to wait, so that the sweetest moments may come not as a waste, but as a treasure.” For a long moment, silence wrapped around them like a heavy cloak, broken only by the distant call of a lone bird. Caine’s eyes faltered, caught briefly in the weight of the unspoken truth. “Yet what use is a promise when hunger gnaws with a thousand teeth in the present? The glutton seizes the feast, yes, but the tempered man starves. Your patience is a river too slow to satisfy the desert’s thirst.” Abbellus’s smile was quiet as a still lake beneath the moon. “Then let me be the river to your thirst, brother, not to drown you, but to quench. My restraint is no denial, but a shield wrought from love, a hand that holds back so that you may savor without suffering famine. In patience there is strength, and in strength, the freedom to choose.” Caine’s gaze fell to the ground, the tension between them folding into a fragile, trembling silence. “Perhaps one day I shall learn this art,” he murmured, “but the fire still calls, and I must answer.” Abbellus inclined his head, stepping aside as the wind lifted leaves in a soft dance around their feet. “Then we walk on, together still, but each bearing the weight of our own flame.” The orchard seemed to hold its breath, and the brothers moved forward. The path beneath their feet wound through a valley of flowering laurels and ancient oaks, the air heavy with honeyed scents and the sound of murmuring brooks. Here, the earth’s generosity was abundant, the blossoms offering fragrance without restraint, the waters flowing endlessly. Abbellus halted, eyes reflecting the golden sunlight as he spoke softly, “Brother, witness the gifts of Elyziæ. How the earth shares its beauty, not weighed upon a scale of giving and taking, but as a dance of pure giving. Charity is the heart’s unshackled hand, freely offering without ledger or debt.” Caine’s gaze sharpened, dark like storm clouds gathering over calm skies. “Free giving? Nay, brother, such generosity is but a mask. Beneath it lurks the unspoken truth, the desire to be seen, to hold power over the grateful, to command through gifts. Greed is the hunger that feeds on this desire, the insatiable thirst for more, that no hand can truly quench.” Abbellus smiled, gentle and wide as a summer dawn. “But what if giving itself is the reward? What if the greatest wealth is not kept in coffers but shared in abundance? Charity is the gift that flourishes when love overflows, needing no return, for its root lies deep within the self, not in the eyes of others.” “Yet,” Caine countered, voice low and dangerous as a serpent coiled in the grass, “even love can become a chain. The greedy heart takes, covets, hoards, yet the heart that gives also yearns to be needed, to be indispensable. The scales of charity are balanced on fragile strings that are easily broken by desire.” Abbellus knelt by a bushel of lilies, plucking a single white lily and offering it to his brother. “See this flower, brother? It gives its fragrance without reserve, expecting no hand to hold it, no voice to praise it. Charity is this; pure and unblemished. True wealth lies not in possession, but in the freedom to give and the grace to receive.” Caine took the flower but let it fall to the ground. “And yet, even a flower can be crushed beneath a greedy foot. I crave not the gift but the power it holds, the hunger to possess, to grasp the heavens themselves if I might.” Abbellus rose, gaze steady. “Power held through greed is a fortress built on shifting sands. Charity is the foundation of lasting strength, for it builds bridges, binds souls, and nurtures the children of Elyziæ in the warmth of shared light.” Caine’s eyes glimmered with both longing and bitterness. “You speak of light, but I see only shadows. The hungry shadows that stalk the hearts, craving more than they need, until nothing remains but emptiness.” The brothers stood, close yet distant, bound by love, yet torn by ideals. “Then let us walk this path together, brother,” Abbellus whispered. “For even in darkness, the light of charity shines.” Caine nodded, a flicker of warmth touching the edges of his scorn. “Together, though our hands grasp different truths.” Their footsteps echoed softly through a mountain pass where the air was thin and crisp. Here the earth whispered of labor and legacy, of the forging of dreams through sweat and will. Abbellus gazed upward to the peaks, silvered by the early sun. “Behold the mountain, brother. Its majesty is not born of ease, but of ceaseless striving. Diligence is the steady hammer that shapes the raw stone, the fire that tempers the blade. It is the guardian of purpose, the voice that urges the weary to rise again.” Caine stretched out a hand and let it fall to a mossy rock, voice thick with disdain. “And yet, the mountain can crush as easily as it inspires. The body may tire, but the mind can grow numb in the lull of ease. Why strain beneath the weight of ceaseless toil when rest offers peace?” Abbellus turned slowly, eyes bright with unshed light. “Rest is the breath between the verses of song, the pause that lends meaning to the melody. But to live only in the pause is to drown the music itself. Diligence is the hand that writes the epic, the voice that sings of purpose even when the road is steep and the night long.” Caine’s laugh was bitter, a dry wind through cracked stone. “Purpose is but a chain, and toil its shackle. Rest frees the soul from such bonds.” Abbellus stepped forward, the warmth of his presence soothing the air. “Then let me share your burden, brother. For in diligence, there is no shame in rest, only the courage to return to the forge. We bear our burdens not alone, but bound as one.” Their eyes met, fierce yet tender, the mountain between them both obstacle and monument. “Walk with me, brother,” Abbellus said, “and together, we shall carve a path that honors both fire and shadow.” The forest thinned as they reached a glade where silver light danced upon the dew-kissed grass. The air was fragrant with wild jasmine and the faint murmur of distant waterfalls. Here, the world seemed poised between innocence and desire, between the pure and the profane. Abbellus’s gaze softened like dawn’s first light. “Here, brother, lies the sacred balance. Chastity is not denial but devotion, a temple built not of stone but of sacred trust. It is the honoring of the self and the other, the reverence for the sacred spark that binds all souls.” Caine’s eyes darkened, flames flickering in their depths. “And yet, lust is the wild tempest that shatters temples. It is the fire that consumes reason, the hunger that breaks all bonds and leaves only ash. Why worship at altars of restraint when passion demands to be known and tasted?” Abbellus’s voice was a gentle river flowing through the stillness. “Passion need not destroy, but when wielded with respect, it becomes creation itself. Chastity is the art of channeling desire as a compass guiding the soul to deeper truth and connection.” Caine’s laugh was raw, like thunder rolling over bare hills. “Compass or cage, it feels like chains. Lust is the tempest that stirs the blood and shatters illusion. To deny it is to deny life’s fiercest song.” Abbellus stepped closer, eyes shining with sorrow and love. “To deny the tempest is folly, but to be mastered by it is ruin. Chastity teaches the dance, the giving and receiving with honor and grace. It is not the absence of fire, but the flame tempered by wisdom.” Caine’s breath caught, a tumult of longing and frustration. “I envy that wisdom, brother. For the storm inside me rages unchecked, and I fear it will one day consume all.” Abbellus reached out, his hand steady on Caine’s shoulder. “Then let us walk together, brother. Your storm and my calm, each needed to temper the other. In the weaving of our spirits lies the balance of Elyziæ.” The silver light flickered between them like a fragile promise, the glade holding its breath as two souls bound by blood and love stood at the edge of the eternal dance. Virtus and Peccatum entwined, neither complete without the other. Their journey through the forest’s heart brought them to the edge of a cliff where the sky stretched endlessly, a canvas untouched by mortal hands. The brothers stood side by side, gazing out at the horizon that divided their dreams. Caine broke the silence first, voice rough with emotion. “You speak of temples built in the hearts of men, of reverence found in restraint and quiet giving. But I see empty skies, brother, empty altars that mock our Lord-Father’s descent. If we do not build great pillars, how shall the children know where to bow?” Abbellus’s eyes were soft but resolute. “The temple is not stone, but all Elyziæ itself, its mountains, rivers, and skies. Our Lord-Father’s presence dwells in every breath and blade of grass. The children will honor him in ways as countless as the stars.” Caine’s jaw clenched, shadow crossing his features. “You cling to hope like a prayer, but hope does not raise walls. We must craft monuments, or we risk losing all.” Abbellus stepped forward, voice steady but pained. “And in doing so, we may bind them to pride and hollow ritual. The children must choose their path, not be forced upon it.” The wind rose, carrying with it the weight of their words. Caine stretches out his hand, in it lies the white lily that Abbellus had plucked for him. He turned his head away, averting his brother’s gaze. “I envy you brother.” Abbellus puts the flower behind his ear. “And I love you brother.” Caine slowly approached his brother and embraced him. Whilst leaning back, a tear of shadow rolled over his cheek. He whispered in his brother’s ear, “Know my heart is yours still”. before giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. They locked eyes and knew there was nothing left to be said, and so they parted ways.

It was now, in the closing moments of the Primaris epoch, that Elyziæ had taken its first form. And that the Primunati were in preparation of the foretold descent of Caellus. Far across the sprawling continents, Caine, driven by a will all his own, had journeyed to the farthest reaches of the western lands. There, amidst rugged cliffs and forgotten wilderness, he sacrificed an entire continent’s stone, to serve a grander vision. With relentless labor performed by those of his brethren who he had met on his travels, Six colossal pillars were fashioned, each soaring like titans rising from the restless ocean. These towering monoliths were not more stone, for each bore its own temple to embody the three Dualities, weaving balance and power into the very air. At the heart of this monumental array, between the pillars’ imposing shadows, stood an immense throne. Crafted for none other than the mighty Caellus themselves, a seat of dominion and divine presence that awaited their imminent reign. On a day, where the winds soared harder than normal, and the fires burned brighter, and the stone was harder, and the tides ran wilder, Caine summoned Rūpa and Nāma, Bahamut and Tiamat, and his brother Abbellus to their temples. For he had received an omen, that during the darkest of days Caellus would descend from the heavens and bright forth new light. The skies grew darker that day, and all could feel that something was amiss. They waited for the arrival of their Lord. But it would not come yet. From the heavens descended Nothing. A behemoth of a Monolith, rivaling the Six Pillars of Caine in size, landed where the throne had stood, shattering it utterly. From the tip of this Monolith, a ray of Nothing rose, darkening the skies so that no light might pierce its veil. All beheld this in shock and were left without speech. “Lo, the cometh of Nihilus, Monolith of Antithesis, embodiment of Nothing. Balanced thou might be, yet forgetful of thine nature. What Was and What Wasn’t hath once been of Nothing, but then cameth Essence, and thereafter followed Other. Now balance must be restoreth, in its form that has been presented unto you.” It was then Rūpa and Nāma who came from their temple and gazed upon the Monolith. “What seest thou, dear Rūpa”, Nāma solemnly asked. “It’s as Nihilus proclaimed, dear Nāma, I see Nothing.” “Then it is the same as for me, for I see Nothing too. Devoid of Physicality and devoid of Spirituality alike, it’s the very Antithesis of our being.” It was then that Bahamut and Tiamat who came from their temples and gazed upon the Monolith. They flew inwards and disappeared within Nothing. “Canst thou hear me, dearest Tiamat.” Bahamut called, but no sound answered. Within the depths of Nothing, Tiamat cried out. Not for her beloved, but for the premature birth of her child. For Nihilus had sought to wrench from the seed of Bahamut a babe, and with dreadful success, the child was born into Nothing. Its hollow cries echoed throughout the Monolith, prompting Bahamut to pursue it with fierce might. With great power, Bahamut seized Tiamat and fled the Monolith. Yet as Tiamat opened her hands, the babe was no longer with them and was left behind in the care of Nihilus. “What hast thou done? Why hast thou abandoned our child?” Tiamat roared, her voice thick with grief and fury. And Bahamut remained silent, not because of their own accord, but bound by the will of Nihilus. In bitterness and melancholy, Tiamat broke free of Bahamut’s grasp and fled into the shadowed skies. Bahamut, mind left asunder, lingered still, paralyzed in anguish. The Monolith grew ever larger, and the skies darkened further. Caine beheld the unfolding horror, and at last, fell to his knees in despair. His gaze plunged deep into the Abyss, and for a moment, he felt it gaze back; cold, infinite, and merciless. His mind tore asunder, wracked by the unyielding weight of that which he could neither fathom nor deny. Around him, his brethren, who had come about to see the cause of the darkening sky, succumbed one by one, swallowed by the consuming void. Rūpa’s form cracked like fragile crystal; Nāma’s voice was stilled; Bahamut’s fierce light was extinguished; and Tiamat's bitter cries faded into eternal silence. All fell, and all were lost. But Caine did not weep, nor did he scream. His soul ruptured, shattered into fragments too numerous to count. The fabric of his reason unraveled, thread by thread, as madness crept like a poison in his veins. He saw the world twist and convulse. A realm without meaning or order, where shadows danced in mocking glee and echoes of laughter gripped his heart in icy chains. Time became a shattered mirror, each shard reflection a different horror, a different torment. All of Reason abandoned. In the depths of the unending night, Caine’s thought unraveled into a chaotic symphony of anguish and fury. He tore at his own flesh, screamed into the void until his vocal cords snapped, cursed the heavens and embraced the abyss that gazed within him. It was then that he heard the weight of Nihilus’ speech, “Embrace thine fated Wrath and complete the Balance of Existence, lest Nothing swallow it all.” In that moment, the Monolith dissolved into shadow and dust, and the Sun pierced the darkened skies anew. From the heavens descended a figure of greatness. A colossal dragon with mighty wings beating thunderously through the air. All glimmers of hope had faded, and the only thing that stopped Caine from dying was uncontrollable Wrath. With a roar that silenced the world, Caine leapt upon the great dragon, believing it to be his Lord-Father. Wings struck wings and stone shattered beneath their fury. Caine managed to get a grip on his foe, and flew him through the Six Pillars whilst endlessly beating their mortal body. Amidst the ruin and chaos, the combatants plummeted towards the ground, crashing down upon the ruined throne that once awaited Caellus’ reign. With a wall of red clouding his sight, Caine seized a great stone and staggered toward the fallen form of his fay, who lay motionless upon their back.His breath came ragged, his vision blurry, but as he drew near, his gaze fell upon a single white lily clasped in the hand of the stricken being. B-Brother? The thought pierced his mind like a dagger. The stone slipped from his grapes, striking the ground with a hollow crack. Caine collapsed to his knees, trembling. Rage and grief surged through him in equal measure. He struck the ground again and again, the earth splitting beneath his blows until the flesh of his was torn and bloodied. The voice of Nihilus coiled through him, a writhing infestation that clawed at his bones and gnawed at his soul: “Embrace thine fated Wrath...and complete the Balance of Existence” Caine crawled to the body, his breath ragged, his eyes unblinking. He set himself upon the waist of Abbellus and took up another stone. With arms trembling yet relentless, he raised it high and brought it down upon the face of his brother. Seven times did the blow fall, until his strength was spent and his limbs hung as dead weight. And in the silence that followed, a silence deeper than the grave, Caine sat in utter silence and vowed to remain so. Knelt in the ruins of his dream, he embraced his fate. And under the first Eclipse, which had appeared high in the sky and brought about an orange hue, Caine beheld the nature of his domain.