Malik wasn’t even given a moment.
The title dropped, but the world didn’t pause.
No... It didn’t pause. It COULDN’T pause.
Past Malik was in an Araaf’s domain.
Again, not a Rukh, but an Araaf Al-Kitab.
A being above the Divine Hierarchy.
The Diviner of the Book.
Laws that defined the entire universe.
Indeed. Past Malik was in ’HIS’ Divine Kingdom.
The Ten Commandment could not handle the True Sultan.
Any interaction with ’Him,’ whether in the past, present, or future, wasn’t something that could ever be predicted.
The Holy Relic couldn’t know what ’He’ would know.
Perhaps the past ’Him’ would catch on. Perhaps ’He’d’ know exactly what Malik was doing, whose Blessing he had, the Rukhs he was in bed with. And if the past ’Him’ knew that, then the consequences would be catastrophic.
So all it could do was warm him.
{!!—WARNING—!! Meeting... with the TRUE SULTAN... is—inevitable—!! ERROR—!!}
And Malik read that warning while somehow still remaining calm.
{...PROCESS...FAILED...CONTAINMENT—BREACHED...!}
Every word smacked into his consciousness, nearly making him dizzy.
{’HE’—WILL...SEE YOU...INSIDE—AND—OUTSIDE—THE—PROJECTION...! CANNOT...CANNOT...CANNOT...REDACT...! ATTEMPTS—TO—OBSCURE—YOU...HAVE—FAILED...FAILED...FAILED...! APOLOGIES...!! APOLOGIES!! APOLO—}
It was spazzing out like never before.
{—ERROR STACK OVERFLOW—PLEASE—ENDURE—PLEASE—ENDURE—PLEASE—ENDURE—SYSTEM—BREAKING—...DIVINE LAW...UNSTABLE...!!}
Suddenly, it paused, perhaps finally broken.
{...Volume Six, The Depraved Movement, has ended. Congratulations.}
{It is time. Volume Seven: The Fall Is Here...}
He suddenly found himself before a large dune in the middle of the desert.
There was no... sun above, but it was still as bright as could be, enough to blind a mortal in moments, which, thankfully, he wasn’t, even if he currently felt otherwise.
Malik’s golden eyes, quickly adapting to the sudden change in environment, trailed up the dune.
Once they reached the peak, they paused.
They trembled, pupils dilating big and small.
One of the beings that he couldn’t even begin to glimpse at was actually in front of him.
He, an almost Mithqal, stood before a God, an ARAAF!
His mind screamed, begging his body to follow its command.
You shouldn’t look up, stop!
Don’t move your head!
DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!DON’T!
DO NOT PRY INTO THE SECRETS OF GOD.
A normal voice reached his ears.
So normal... casual, that Malik accidentally craned his neck back up.
He saw what so easily terrified him.
He only saw a pair of Black Eyes.
Two orbs of void that sucked out all the light around them.
Everything else was hidden behind a very thick ’fog.’
A yellow ’fog,’ making it seem no different than the sand beneath it.
Malik stared, transfixed by those eyes, finding them so very familiar.
And that was for good reason...
Those eyes belonged to IT.
Those eyes belonged to everyone who Fell.
...Did... did their ancestor ’Himself’ Fall?
"No, I didn’t; now stop thinking and get up here."
Malik slowly nodded his head.
He was sure that he wasn’t going any crazier than he already was.
This voice he heard must’ve belonged to ’Him,’ he was sure of that... as much as his logical mind told him otherwise.
Because, well, did such beings really talk—
"I do. Some of us want to stick with the times. Besides, ’English’ is much easier than Old Tongue. Now enough about that; get up here before I make you."
The answer to what was on his mind made Malik sure.
The True Sultan could read minds, perhaps something only possible in ’His’—
’He’ snapped his fingers, and Malik materialized directly before the eyes of black.
Surprising both the True Sultan and himself, he met those eyes without even a flinch.
"I... I, Malik, forced by fire and World, greet you, Divine Ancestor... Our one... our only True Sultan."
Before Malik could kneel, he heard another snap and found himself sitting at a long table, the True Sultan opposite him.
"There’s no need for formalities... kid."
Pausing ’His’ words, ’He’ looked up.
"I see you’ve got a show going on."
"We don’t want to bore them, so..."
"Let’s get it started already."
{Outside The Projection}
A world both in the future... and not even in the same dimension.
And without the projection even resuming, without a single frame moving forward, ’His’ voice echoed.
The entire world trembled.
Al-Fawra—the Maw of the Devil—gaped open.
Everywhere. From the kingdoms to the ruins, from desert cities to underworld strongholds, from mountain peaks to hidden chambers of world factions.
Mortals. Nadhirs. Jinn. Even Mithqals. All of them, without exception, collapsed.
Knees hit the ground, and heads bowed. Some didn’t even realize their bodies were moving, their eyes flooded, blood streaming from their sockets. Black blood. Black Tears. Rolling over bulging veins and hitched breaths.
Some screamed, unable to handle the pain; most couldn’t even do that.
The sheer fact of ’His’ existence was crushing them.
In the entire hall, only two stood firm.
Sinbad, the Crimson Owl, perched by the Golden Throne, and that silver-haired woman in the corner, the one nobody even dared to look at twice.
The two locked eyes for a moment, then looked back at the projection.
Rapid echoes of something foreign rippled across it, taking away the volume’s title.
{...W...Warni...—!!...God...WILL...be...SHOW—...God...WILL...be...HEARD!!...DATA... DATA...OVERFLOW...STACK...OVERFLOW...!!...UNSTABLE... UNSTABLE...!!}
The projection spasmed.
Spilled its... code like blood.
Symbols from every sacred language twisted into static.
It tried to shut itself off. It tried.
It couldn’t hide ’Him.’
And before anyone could fully realize what was happening—
"Oh, don’t worry. I’m not too rough with my kids."