175 Origin Truth

Long ago, there was a priest called Styx. His love for the Goddess, Anthea, in the primal era of civilization, was so great it made her love him back, eventually granting him immortality so they could share an undying love together.

This was how the story went, but the workings of gods were beyond what a mortal could comprehend. There was a condition attached to this immortality, that he could not love another person.

All gods were bound by rules as to were they granted omnipotent powers. It was a paradox in which they could do anything, yet also do nothing.

Styx was not aware of it at the time, but he was granted the authority of the land, the earth, and fertility, which belonged to Anthea. This was why whenever he died due to accident or experimentation by those seeking his secrets, he would be reborn from the earth somewhere else.

He had thought the rule was attached to the agreement with his Goddess, but it held a deeper meaning. There is no authority without rules, his was that he could not love another

Mortals, however, were never meant for the authority of the gods. Anthea should have known this, or perhaps she did, yet she still granted her authority onto him.

Mortals and gods were fundamentally different. Mortals where chaotic, compared to gods who were pure order. They lied, broke rules, and embodied sins.

It was a certainty that he would break that rule eventually. As stated, mortals where not meant for the authority of gods.

When that rule attached to the authority was broken, Styx had thought he had been reduced to ash by the goddess.

Incorrect.

By breaking the rule, the authority itself was broken, shattered into infinite pieces. Not just Styx, but Anthea too turned to ash at that moment. As it was the authority over the land, the earth, and fertility, everything it governed was shattered.

The land didn't just refer to the planet earth, it referred to the entire universe.

Styx was technically still alive, as was Anthea, as all gods were immortal, but they had been shattered into infinite pieces and no longer had the awareness.

Slowly, these small pieces of the universe began to grow once again. Civilizations were born, some human, some not. Within endless possibilities, everything became possible.

The remaining gods watched as these universe fragments, as if drawn by some unknown gravitational force, begun to pull together and fuse. As they had experienced growth on their own though, the end product was an infinitely growing world.

Styx was woken up at the very beginning of this process by the gods, or at least, a tiny fragment of himself was. They made a request of him, to restore civilization to its former glory.

Thus, he did.

Then they requested him to teach them how to use mana, a natural force of the universe.

Thus, he did.

They gave him knowledge, which then became power, and humanity entered a new golden era with Styx at the helm.

Then, they told him to build a Tower of Babel.

The Tower of Babel was constructed not of bricks and cement, but of mana itself. The people became the bricks, and mana the cement. The people would fight, stealing the bricks of others to use as ladders to climb the tower.

At first, he did this too.

Eventually, he grew doubts on the project. The tower was getting closer and closer to god. Eventually, he learned of the true purpose to it.

The gods were envious. They had seen how a creature of chaos could shatter the rules of an Authority, thus releasing the shackles that bound them. They cared not for the cost mortals would suffer as they fought amongst themselves until the select few reached godhood.

The only thing they cared about was breaking their own shackles, and mortals only served as a purpose to fulfil that.

Styx cared for his people too much to allow such a thing to happen. He concocted a plan in secret, erasing all books containing knowledge on the construction of the Tower of Babel. He then sabotaged it, causing it to collapse in on itself.

His people suffered backlash because of this, but the gods were furious.

The gods cursed him, cut out his world from the universe as if cutting out a cancer, and casting it far into the realm of oblivion. Mana, the force that supported the world and everything inside of it, drained like the water in a bucket with no base. Life began dying, slowly at first, but soon at a rapid pace.

Desperate, Styx used the remnants of the Tower of Babel to pull all life remaining into a core region and sacrificed his Authority and body to become the cornerstone of life. What remained was used to create a cycle of reincarnation, allowing souls to be reborn and keeping civilization alive.

His authority included fertility, after all. He used his own body to breed mana once again. It was weak though, as he was but the tiniest of fragments. For every thousand points of mana that passed through him, a thousand and one would leave.

It was also a slow process. He could not sustain the entire world or all life, but he did not regret his decision. He had loved Anthea, but the gods had revealed their true nature to him.

He hoped that one day, the aggregate mana in this cast away world would eventually be replenished to the point were people could flourish once more.

Thus, he hibernated.

~~~~~

⠀

Styx looked at Ancient Styx with a grave expression.

"Now, I only have more questions," He stated to what had become a true corpse, talking until all life left him.

The mana in the world also died at this moment and begun draining, an inadvertent consequence as its support finally left.

Without any words, he silently stood up and left the cathedral, the world somehow even more silent. As he stepped out into the terrarium city, he was greeting with nothing but emptiness. The collapsed guard had turned to ash, as had everyone else.

Outside the city, the entire pseudo river of souls had completely dried up as well.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have come," Styx solemnly commented, his mind conflicted. "However, was this truly a life worth living? Should I lose my war with the kingdom, or the gods, would I too desperately cling on, no matter how little is left?"

He also understood that there was no way the hero's Earth could be his Earth, as his had shattered. He never reincarnated into another world in the first place, he was simply reborn in the same one he died in.

There was still a war ongoing with the Maple Dragon Kingdom and the Neth'rite Demon Kingdom. There was also the summoned heroes and countless other forces to consider as well. Heroes only became stronger the longer they were allowed to grow, and he no longer had a spy amongst them.

He had built what he viewed as the greatest kingdom for his people that he could imagine, and it was steadily growing.

With all this going on, his entire worldview had been shattered. More so than anything...

He felt tired.