***
{Outside The Projection}
While the hall hadn't seen such scenes, too busy preparing to fight to react...
The world wasn't.
And oh, they reacted.
"He is Lord of All That Is Golden!"
A Title was ford.
It followed a chant that echoed across Fam Iblis.
What was once brewing had suddenly exploded in fever, becoming...
"Lord of All That Is Golden!"
"Lord of All That Is Golden!"
"Lord of All That Is Golden!"
"Lord of All That Is Golden!"
"Lord of All That Is Golden!"
This.
Mortals really began thinking of him as a God. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs novel•fire
They'd kneeled to the ground and prayed to him instead of for him.
Malik wouldn't have wanted to be worshiped, and they knew it, but they still did it anyway, thinking that such humbleness only raised him further.
Most looked at those people weirdly, however.
With the Sultan's character and his insane ideals, what would the tradition or the belief of their religion even be? Being insane? At least dying once and then resurrecting? Or being constantly miserable and resisting against the inevitable?
And what would the prayer be?
'Oh, our Second Sun, please bless us with your insanity so we can bypass all enemies on the battlefield?'
Actually, that almost sounded decent.
Well... maybe it wasn't such a terrible idea.
Without too much thinking, more began to join.
And thus, a new religion was born.
Second Sun.
Many a people walked to their God.
All over the world, they moved.
The Holy Palace was their destination.
Lord of All That Is Golden was about to be reborn.
It was a sight that they weren't going to miss.
***
{Inside The Projection}
They had roared themselves hoarse.
Echoes of their promise remained long after they left.
A promise made much bigger than themselves.
The caves were their destinations.
There were easily more caves than Shurtat al-Khamis.
Yet, it wasn't an issue, as most caves sat next to each other.
Everything was ready, and everyone was nearly in place.
Even Dunya had left after putting Sinbad in that cage.
Malik couldn't have them be here...
He couldn't do that to them.
Even he knew that as too cruel.
So, with his eyes still closed, he waited.
Alone by design, sitting on the Golden Throne.
It was really cold up here, so very cold.
But it was nothing new.
He'd gotten used to it by now.
Malik had beco what ailed him.
He was the cold and the Corruption.
Truly a husk of what he once was.
And yet, not even now...
Not even now did he catch a break.
For their promise, as beautiful as it was, wasn't a shield.
Only a few minutes after they were gone...
The air changed.
One could feel it first like a tremor under the tongue.
Temperature further tilted and sound... folded inward.
Every lamp dimd as if a hand passed over the fla.
Shadows lengthened tall until they were wrong.
And sothing stepped into that wrongness.
It was the shape of a man.
A familiar shape.
Entirely black, this figure stood taller than most.
It was smooth and without features until the eyes—two moons of white light.
IT had co.
The light didn't blink.
IT simply looked at Malik and the Golden Throne.
...Golden Throne?
What Golden throne?
Where did it go?
Where did the hall go?
Malik, once sitting on the dais, suddenly found himself in a thick forest.
"NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED..."
Before him was an olive tree.
"IF YOU JUST ROLLED OVER AND DIED."
Yet it held no olives.
"I KNOW OF YOUR PLAN."
He was in IT's Cursed Kingdom.
"SILENT REQUIEM. HOW FITTING..."
Its presence had taken over everything.
"HOW FOOLISH."
The words fell into his bones, each syllable slling of mockery.
"HOW DUMB? HOW DUMB? HOW DUMB ARE YOU—YOU—YOU—TO SACRIFICE YOURSELF? YOURSELF, YOURSELF—for the 'UNWORTHY?' THE UNWORTHY? THE UNWORTHY? THE UNWORTHY?"
Malik slowly opened his eyes.
"TELL . TELL . WASN'T THAT WHAT YOU—YOU CALLED THEM?"
His blacks scanned the tree.
"YOU ARE A FOOL. A GREAT FOOL."
There, he saw a white orb.
"A FOOL—DAMNED FOOL THAT DOESN'T, DOESN'T UNDERSTAND HIS LIMITS, LIMITS."
The Forgotten Nexus.
"...EVEN NOW."
He stood up and reached out, but...
"NO. NO. NO. NOT YET, SULTAN. NOT YET."
A black snake materialized out of his chest.
Out of his ouroboros made manifest.
The snake squeezing his heart.
ITS absence from him made him pause.
So he could only watch as IT slithered up the tree, reaching the orb.
"BUT—BUT—BUT IF YOU ARE SO URGENT, SO URGENT, SO URGENT… YOU COULD ALWAYS—ALWAYS—ALWAYS JUST ACCEPT . ACCEPT . ACCEPT . ACCEPT . ACCEPT ."
IT lowered itself in circles, ITS scales slick with the sa nothingness IT was made of.
"STOP FIGHTING. STOP. STOP. STOP… EVEN FOR YOU—YOU, YOU—TWO HUNDRED YEARS, YEARS, YEARS—MANY YEARS, MANY YEARS, MANY YEARS—IS A LONG TI. A LONG TI. A LONG, LONG TI… IS IT NOT? NOT? NOT?"
IT hissed, tongue flicking out without sound, until IT wrapped itself fully around the orb.
"PRESSURE, PRESSURE, PRESSURE, PRESSURE. HOW DO YOU HANDLE IT?"
The Forgotten Nexus repeatedly pulsed under ITS pressure.
"IT'S TI. TI FOR YOU TO FINALLY LET GO. LET GO. LET GO. LET GO. OTHERWISE—OTHERWISE—YOUR, YOUR, YOUR OUROBOROS… YOUR OUROBOROS… ."
Like a heart experiencing fear for the first ti.
"IT'LL NEVER END. NEVER. NEVER. YOU WILL NEVER DIE. NEVER. NEVER. NEVER. ONLY LIVE. LIVE. LIVE. LIVE IN PERPETUAL AGONY. AGONY. AGONY. AGONY—IN ."
Malik's eyes stayed on IT, flat, without movent.
"SO ACCEPT . ACCEPT . ACCEPT ——AND FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY ET YOUR END. YOUR END. YOUR END. END IN MY VOID. MY VOID. MY VOID. MY VOID."
IT tightened its coil and rested its head on the white, as if daring him to touch it.
"A SURE END. END. END… THE QUIET. QUIET. QUIET YOU—YOU, YOU—SO DESPERATELY NEED. NEED."
IT tried to tempt him further into ITSELF, Corrupt him.
But he only stared at IT blankly, caring not for ITS words.
Yet, eventually, he couldn't help but ask:
"...Why aren't you stopping ?"
The snake hissed as IT listened.
"You must know that my Silent Requiem…"
He forced the words through his teeth, throat grating.
"...would bleed your nonexistent heart. It'd both end what you want most—… and completely save millions from your clutches."
ITS white eyes blinked.
"BUT DIDN'T YOU—DIDN'T YOU, DIDN'T YOU—WANT TO DO THAT? TO DO THAT WITHOUT… WITHOUT… WITHOUT SACRIFICE?"
Every word dripped with ITS mockery, worse than earlier.
"WHAT IS THIS… WHAT IS THIS, WHAT IS THIS, WHAT IS THIS—IF NOT SACRIFICE? SACRIFICE. SACRIFICE. THE BIGGEST. THE BIGGEST. THE BIGGEST SACRIFICE."
Malik shook his head, and even that small gesture was a struggle.
"I'm only… taking a break."
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