Eris stood alone in an endless white.
An eternal realm bathing in Divinity.
It was untouched no longer; its ceiling cracked with black cobwebs traveling across for many miles.
Resisting the expansion of those cracks was a... Rune.
It floated high, a weight scale glowing with Divinity, nearly dominating what could only be described as this realm’s skyline from the outside.
Yet that wasn’t what took the beautiful black-haired Goddess’s attention.
Her ruby eyes were locked on a projection that stood before Her.
It showed Her Xenos in a third-person perspective, almost in an eagle-eye view. Get full chapters from NoveI(F)ire.net
This was only a recreation of what was happening, of course, as She only saw what Xenos did, and usually in his direct perspective, so again, this was nothing more than a prediction of the truth... much like a mirror.
In this truth, Xenos remained sprawled against the corpse of that last Python, breathing faintly, his face slack with exhaustion.
His body twitched now and then, tiny signs of it mending, his Soul pulling threads of itself back together, yet he slept through it all.
Her lips softened into the smallest smile.
A soft whisper left Her before She even noticed, finding Herself constantly surprised by this boy who accidentally saw Her no more than a week ago and was now making Her act unlike how the world ever knew Her.
With him, there was no need to bare fangs, trying to get him in line, like Her previous rebelling Followers, no need to rip apart Gods and Daemons alike... barely surviving in a realm that wanted Her dead.
Here, it was only him and Her.
And oh, how damned proud She was.
Stepping forward, She placed a hand on the surface of the projection, the faint warmth of his presence brushing against Her fingertips.
He had fought, stumbled, bled, and nearly died a dozen times over, and yet...
Xenos had trusted Her voice.
The voice belonging to the origin of Calamity.
Trusted Her when no one else ever could.
Truly... did anyone trust Her as much as he did in that moment?
That thought alone made Her chest ache, an odd, tender ache that belonged only to him in a way She didn’t quite understand.
’I can’t wait to see where you’ll take us...’
Indeed, Eris couldn’t wait for him to wake.
She wanted to hear his blunt words, his strange humor, and his careless laughter.
But until then... She would protect him.
Her ruby eyes flared, turning cold.
The still white began to ripple, and a gray fog bled into the air behind Her, a whisper of rot following soon after:
Eris did not turn right away, staring at Xenos a moment longer before finally lifting Her head.
What stood for air in this realm grew heavy, Her black dress rising as the ends of Her hair shimmered crimson, and Her expression froze into something far removed from that earlier softness.
The fog solidified almost immediately in response, defending Herself from Calamity’s Will.
Such a defense would’ve been unneeded if She was actually here, but thankfully for Xenos’s still intact Soul, this was nothing but a thread of Achyls’s mind.
His Soul would have been blasted apart before time could even catch up, and if he somehow survived thanks to a miraculous action from Eris, he would’ve been Hollow, unable to hold a single Rune, never mind breaking this world.
Yet Calamity didn’t seem to worry about that, knowing that Achyls wasn’t suicidal and wouldn’t test Her luck.
"You seem to have forgotten my warning."
Her lips pulled into a thin line.
"Seeker Xenos may think our Calamity is to blame for all of those Karkinoses, but I know it’s you. Don’t think I’ve missed your Divinity, dragging them into his path."
The fog twisted, like it was laughing.
"And what will you do, Goddess Eris? Fight me? In your weakened state? In your Follower’s Soul, no less? Are you sure? Or will you send over another Follower to fight your battles for you?"
A mocking laugh left Her.
"Unfortunately, I don’t think any of the four
Eris’s eyes burned so hot that the fog shuddered, and before Achyls could even notice, She was right in front of Her.
With one pale hand, She touched the fog.
A crimson red spark burst outward, traveling through the gray in a blink.
Achyls gasped, Her fog stumbling back in pain.
"W–What have you done?!"
Eris smiled, the smile of a Goddess who had set a trap the very moment they met.
"Welcome to my world, Goddess Achyls."
The fog began to unravel, threads ripping apart faster and faster as the spark consumed it.
"N–No! Stop! Please, I didn’t know—you were a Higher God—!"
Achyls, once formidable, begged pathetically.
A God, reduced to pleading in front of Her.
Eris tilted Her head, amused, and then with a wave of Her hand...
The fog collapsed into nothing.
In its place, a structure rose from the endless white, its stone sprouting like bone, glass like veins glimmering red, and wood like flesh, until eventually, a great manor took shape.
It was dark, gothic, and beautiful, every inch of it steeped in Her aura, especially the part where its tall spires turned soft when reaching the white above.
Eris stepped inside, and the fire in the hearth welcomed her, crackling warm.
She, materializing a bottle out of thin air, poured Herself a glass of crimson wine and settled onto a velvet couch before the flames, Her dress pooling around Her frame.
Her eyes softened once more as the same projection appeared before Her, his face bright in the dark.
"No one touches what’s mine."
The fire flared higher, as if obeying Her Will.