“Remus.”

  Remus was kneeling. An abyss of darkness surrounded him still, but Enos was nowhere to be seen. For that, if nothing else, he was thankful.

  He raised his head at the sound of his name, only to be met by a shapeless void. Whoever had spoken didn’t seem keen to stay.

  Lapping waves of water wetted his trousers, and Remus could barely see his own hands extended out in front of him. He felt strangely calm, considering the circumstances. His head hurt a little, but that was next to nothing compared to the migraine that had been stabbing daggers into his skull – Enos shovelling vision after vision down the feed of his mind left him woozy. His thoughts came in slow drifts, however, especially when he tried to remember back to what had happened.

  Whether or not he had taken Enos’ hand.

  His surroundings, although shrouded in shadow, appeared to be nothing more than a stream of liquid a few inches deep. There were no walls to speak of. No air brushing ghostly fingers across his skin. Only Remus, and the rolling tide of the water. If he closed his eyes, Remus could almost imagine he was at some beachside. Coarse sand chafing against his skin, seagulls above cawing incessantly, and the strangled music of the ocean lulling him into a gentle . . . sleep.

  Gods, he was tired. Generals didn’t get much rest – who would have thought?

  Remus rose to his feet, swaying for a moment. It felt like he hadn’t walked in Rebirths.

  What did I choose? The thought should have sent his mind into a frenzy; the cortisol zooming through his veins. Instead, Remus had never felt more apathetic.

  He dropped back to the floor, making a splash. Why bother getting up? Something told him there was nothing more to see: this was it. A fragment of eternity, all his own. It seemed to go on forever.

  Common sense told him he shouldn’t be nearly as calm. He’d been barely seconds away from making the most integral decision of life, and right on the cusp of settling on a choice, he’d been whisked away here – wherever here was. Now feeling altogether indifferent about the entire thing. Maybe Remus truly was the heartless, selfish man Enos painted him out to be. Or, perhaps, in equally as grim a thought, the choice no longer mattered enough to be of concern. Either way, there was no use worrying: no matter what, Descent was predestined for ruin.

  Remus had done a lot of things in his life. Remarkable things. But wrestling with destiny was one race with no finish line. He’d been doing that all his life, and was yet to spot a final ribbon to sprint through.

  Ultimately, nothing had changed. Humanity and their not-so benevolent gods were doomed.

  What is this, anyway? Remus frowned, though felt distinctly unbothered. Purgatory?

  He hadn’t believed in the afterlife. Remus had never really known what to think about death. It was simply an unavoidable part of life, the final checkpoint even the gods would one day cross. Ever since the topic had been brought up in conversation with Koa, it had been playing on his mind. Where were the soldiers who had died for him now?

  If there was a heaven, would Infinity have reserved a place for humanity there? He doubted it. If Infinity had created an entire race of warrior demons to destroy the deities – humanity’s very creators – then it was pretty safe to assume humans weren’t regarded too favourably either.

  Remus tended to think of Infinity as if it was some sentient being. An ultra-intelligence that encompassed all of life – was life itself. He could call on it in battle, surge it through his Boundless Mark, but ultimately? He knew next to nothing about the holy essence. Maybe it wasn’t self-aware. Maybe it was just power, existing for power’s sake, with no rhyme or reason behind it.

  If the alternative was believing that existence itself was set out against him – wanted him dead – then Remus would gladly believe otherwise.

  But all the evidence was to the contrary. The Unbounded spoke about Infinity like it was a master they served. A maniacal villain that rubbed its hands together and sat back watching as their ultimate schemes unfolded. The universe was a board game, and only Infinity knew the end-goal, possessed the pieces, and understood the crude language of the instruction manual.

  For the very first time since awakening here, a shiver ran down Remus’ spine.

  “Remus.”

  Remus rose his head, away from his shimmering reflection in the sweeping waters. The first time he’d heard that voice, he’d been certain he was hallucinating. Maybe the prospect of being here, alone forever, stressed out a subconscious part of him. Enough that it had begun conjuring up imaginary friends to keep him company.

  “Remus!”

  When the voice called for the third time, a tad more aggressively, Remus had the distinct impression their patience was wearing thin. Real or not, whoever this person was demanded his attention. Worst case scenario, and there were unreal voices taking residence inside Remus' head, he didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with his new roommate.

  Remus returned to his feet. “Yes?”

  Footsteps reverberated against walls that didn’t exist, and though he couldn't see through the cloying dark overhead, he doubted there was a ceiling for words to rebound against. Regardless, the figure approached enough for their silhouette to emerge into view. The atmosphere here carried a pressure to it, and Remus had to squint through the fog to catch his first glimpse of . . .

  Himself.

  It was him, seven years old, saw in hand.

  A trick. He thought immediately. Another ploy of Enos.

  Remus backpedaled, Mark revving into action. Blue crystalline light poured out of his shoulder and tricep, granting an otherworldly glow to the alien landscape.

  Young Remus’ eyes widened. “That’s . . .”

  For some reason, it was nigh impossible to call on his Mark’s full power here – like trying to traverse across a road of cement that was yet to fully set. He gritted his teeth, offering a silent prayer to Tanish. Perhaps the Ambition god would hear Remus, and bestow him with the power needed to vanquish this false-

  “That’s so cool!” His child self squealed.

  Immediately, like a chauffeur slamming the brakes of a carriage, Remus sealed his Ambiton.

  He lost his resolve to fight, and where cold determination had possessed him moments ago, Remus was now consumed by utter perplexity.

  “A Mark, a Mark!” Young Remus contorted his face in a fabulous smile. “I knew we’d get one, I just knew it!”

  The child was now running laps around Remus, pulling at the material of Remus’ trousers and laughing delightedly. “Look how muscular we are! Gods, I got so strong! One kick with legs like that, and we’d decapitate someone!”

  Remus rubbed his brow in dismay. If this really was an illusion, Enos was doing an eerily good job of impersonating him.

  He decided to play along. “Who in their right mind taught you what decapitation means?” Remus had always known he’d been something of an oddball, but this was ridiculous.

  His younger self ignored the question, instead spewing out an avalanche of enquiries all his own. All the while, he shadowboxed against an invisible opponent. “How did we get a Mark if we’re – Pow! – Death-Marked?” He kicked fiercely at thin air. Remus was sure in the boy’s imagination, he was acting out some fierce battle. “Boom!” He threw a punch. “Did the gods realise their mistake, and finally give us a Mark?”

  Remus’ throat dried up. “Not exactly. I had to . . .” How to word this? “Earn their attention.”

  “Do that thing again!” His younger self bounced on the balls of his feet. “That blue fire you summoned. Almighty gods, I have fire powers in the future . . .”

  Remus, despite himself, allowed a wreath of fire to consume his arm. “Be careful, it’s hot. And for your information kiddo, it’s not just fire powers.”

  Though, now that he mentioned it, Remus did tend to spout flames everywhere ninety percent of the time. It was his go-to move.

  Huh. He thought. Maybe I should switch things up more often. I don’t want people thinking I’ve only got one trick up my sleeve. Especially not myself.

  Remus banished the flames. Then, in their place, jagged lines of energy screeched through the air.

  “Lightning!”

  “That’s right bud.” Remus smiled. He’d long since accepted he was probably dying right now. Enos had torn his physical body apart, he was sure, and this was all some bizarre fever dream heralding his death. Whatever the case, if he was going to die anyway, Remus planned on enjoying the moment while he could.

  Speaking to him like he’s my son feels pretty weird though. Remus tried to think of some better way to communicate, before shrugging. No way of acting would make this situation normal. Besides, thinking too deeply could risk shattering his false facade that everything was fine. For his own sake, he thought it best to leave that veil intact.

  “How about I show you a few cool moves, huh?”

  Child Remus kept nodding along excitedly, like his neck was attached to a spring.

  “Alright. Watch this.” Remus readied himself in a combat pose, took a deep breath, circulated Infinity around his body, and-

  “Did we beat-up Damosh?”

  . . . paused in his tracks.

  He let both arms fall back to his side. “What?”

  “Did we beat up Damosh!” Younger him repeated. “Wasn’t that the point of getting the Mark in the first place?”

  Remus suddenly felt exposed, as if someone had flailed his skin off, leaving the tender flesh underneath subject to scrutiny. The surface-level bravado was nowhere to be seen, peeled away to reveal what really lay beneath.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  A rotting mockery of what he once stood for.

  He shivered. “About that, I don’t mean to disappoint you, but . . .”

  Remus frowned.

  “But what?”

  Remus’ instincts kicked in, and he dived to the side as a wave of water crashed over them. He shielded his younger self with his body, before glancing back to see what had caused the disruption.

  Curse everything, there appeared to be another uninvited guest in their midst.

  “I’m not normally one to judge, believe it or not.” A voice uncannily like his own billowed across the waters. “But this really is pathetic.”

  Remus turned to see a stone protruding out of the water that he hadn’t noticed before. For how inconspicuous the object was, he couldn’t work out why. A man sat there, wiping a waterstone over a long and delicate series of chains.

  Supreme Steel chains.

  Then he noticed the blue horns.

  The man’s musculature bulged beneath far humbler clothing than his previous set of heavy armour. Seeing his skin exposed under a thin white tunic, Remus tried not to stare at the litany of scars that were barely covered by the attire. The man seemed determined not to meet Remus in the eye, and the scraping of metal on stone was like nails digging across a chalkboard.

  “You’re from that vision.” Remus pushed his younger self behind his back. “A future version of me.”

  A crooked smile disturbed the man’s face. His face. “Sorry to ruin the mood, Remus. Though really, I think if I watched any longer, I’d be sick. Having to show-off to your child self to boost your own self-esteem really is a new low – one I can’t quite fathom the depths of.”

  “What is this?” Remus mustered as much confidence behind his words as possible. Now was no time for feeling stung over petty insults. He finally had another person to speak to – albeit an aspect of himself – and however strange he was finding all this, Remus intended on finding out the truth. “Why are we here?”

  The horned man said nothing. Instead, he simply pointed one finger upwards.

  Remus followed its direction and winced.

  A sanguine red abruptly displaced his reality.

  Through watery eyes, Remus observed a bright light. One he was certain hadn’t been there mere moments ago. A crude crimson served as a jarring contrast to the empty void of this mind-space, illuminating the waters below eerily. As if he was entrenched in blood. He had to squint against the glaring lightsource, and even then his eyes hurt.

  Strangely, Remus felt as if he recognised the glaring power, though couldn’t identify the source behind it. It was like, to some unspoken degree, he’d always known it was there. In the same way that Ambition felt like an extension of himself, so did this resource: simply one that, like a shy friend, hadn’t cared to show its face.

  Until now.

  Older Remus rose lazily to his feet. “This is a shred of the Time god, Java. Implanted inside of you by that dying clansman you spoke to, at the Speed Clan base. It seems to have frozen time, and, to my great dismay, brought the three of us together to convene.”

  Younger Remus seemed frozen himself, not having the slightest clue what was happening. For all Remus’ worth, he wasn’t taking the news much better, biting down on his thumb. A growing, nagging feeling in his stomach was tearing him up from the inside out. It whispered into Remus’ ear, that invisible demon that wouldn’t leave him alone, ushering in a reality he dreaded to discover real.

  Those weren’t dreams that had been haunting his sleeping hours. They were visions.

  “So,” his younger self suddenly tilted his head, no longer smiling. “You gained all this power, and haven’t taken care of our family yet?” He crossed his arms, evidently not noticing that Remus wasn’t in the mood for talking anymore. “You mean to say that the Carpentry Clan are still suffering? How much longer are you going to leave things in Andreas’ hands? Grandad doesn’t have long left, does he?”

  Remus spluttered, the blood rushing to his cheeks. Of course, he couldn’t have known. “It’s not that simple-”

  “I’m sorry, young man.” His older self strutted over before Remus could react, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It seems that Remus is still deliberating on doing the right thing. He’s an awkward stage you’ll have to go through, I’m afraid. But don't worry, after that misstep in our personal growth, a light awaits you at the end of the tunnel: me. The man you really want to become.”

  He stared Remus dead in the eye. “You must join the Paladins. I don’t know why Java’s power stirred in you now, or why our subconscious felt it so important to hold a mother’s meeting, right when Enos was getting tired of your hesitance. Maybe it’s just self-preservation.” The towering man bounded over to Remus, impossibly tall. Now that he was so close, Remus couldn’t help but gasp.

  Across his shoulder, visible though the faint cloth of his robes, he saw something unspeakable.

  His future self was Tainted.

  “I don’t see why you’re so disgusted.” The warrior sneered. “I simply did what I had to. You think the Unbounded are the ones we should be fighting, but have you ever taken a moment to consider the bigger picture?”

  “Don't try to take the moral high ground on me.” Remus barked. “Enos had never done anything good for us; for anyone..”

  “And what have your gods done for you?” Older Remus smirked. “Destroying everything to hold a monopoly over Infinity; raising a race of warriors out of the earth to do their bidding . . . call me idealistic, but that doesn’t sound very moral to me. Listen to your heart Remus – you’ll find that my words strike a cord, for it is yourself that speaks them.

  “All we ever wanted was some peace for our family; for our clansmen. Alas, the gods have forged a reality where we can never possibly seize what we want. We've fought so hard, and for so long, and for what?” He raised his head. “A fallacy. By following the script the gods have written, you doom yourself. You fight for nothing.”

  “What do you propose then?” Remus gritted his teeth. “The Paladins stand for genocide. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for considering Enos’ offer, even for the slightest second, but I certainly don’t intend on becoming like you.”

  His future frowned.

  Then, like a boulder breaking every rib in his back, that presence returned. It was more noticeable than ever – the swirling mass of fiendish black. The person he was so afraid to be, always only one step behind.

  “Your destiny has been stalking you, Remus.”

  Remus collapsed face-first into the water below, nose smashing against the smooth stone underneath. The weight of that demon was greater than ever, and Remus had to strain every muscle in his body just to breathe.

  He could hear older Remus kneeling nearby. He whispered into his left ear, the one not submerged in the stream. “Give. In. This is what you always wanted. To never be so weak and helpless again. So why must you resist?”

  Remus strained his neck, rising above the tide.

  “If you won’t fight for Enos, and if you won’t fight for the gods, then what will you fight for!” The horned man screamed. “This is one choice you can’t escape from. Stop making things so much more difficult than they have to be.”

  Remus said nought. His younger self began to shriek, tugging at his compressed body, trying to free Remus from the weight of his destiny.

  “Where has your resolve gone?” His horned self spat. Wrinkles across his forehead encapsulated centuries worth of frustration. “You struggled and toiled for so much of your life to finally be transfused with the Ambition god’s power, and now that same Ambition seems to be beaten out of you! I might despise Tanish for his part to play in all this, and I draw my power from a new master now, but to think a version of me could display such cowardice . . . you’re a disgrace to even yourself. Past and future, you’re an embarrassment.”

  Something in Remus broke. Mustering all of his strength, he erupted outwards. With both forearms bulging, Remus held back the inky black fiend intent on crushing him. Refused to merge with that darkness.

  He might not be able to win against fate, but that didn’t mean he had to stop fighting.

  “And where exactly has my Ambition gotten me!” His voice disrupted the water below, swatting droplets through the air. “Every time I think I’ve wrought some good into this world, something terrible undoes all of my hard work. A version of me as sick as you is evidence enough.” Remus suddenly felt like an idiot for ever considering Enos’ offer. “I may be a failure, but a peace achieved through the devastation of billions isn’t a peace at all. I’ll rather die here than die a tyrant.”

  He locked eyes with his younger self. The boy was teary-eyed, hugging himself desperately.

  “I’m sorry champ.” Remus felt his darker desires bearing down more than ever. Soon, they would devour him completely.

  Remus dropped to one knee, the invisible demon – the fate he could barely hope to escape from – more intent than ever.

  He had to wonder, what was his younger self thinking? Behind those watery eyes, what thoughts were racing through that tiny head of his?

  While he hated to admit it, his older self was right about one thing. All Remus had ever really wanted, at the very core behind all of his motivations, was to be able to sleep at night, without fearing that tomorrow might be the day his family fell apart. The day that some tax-collector would beat his father to death in a fit of rage. The day a raging God-Graced lost their cool, and obliterated First Right and the Divine Ground it stood on, in a merciless display of godly authority. The day that all of Descent fell into anarchy, and they became no better than the Unbounded themselves.

  Strip away all of his worldly desires, and Remus wanted peace. Maybe that was why Armani had branded him in the first place. If not by the goddess’ conscious whims, then by the remnants of the Peace god’s soul.

  Resolution.

  Truly, it was all meaningless. Unbounded. The deities. Two sides of a fruitless war.

  He would have to rise above it.

  Screaming now, Remus pushed against the demon with all of his might.

  Someone seemed to be whispering into his ear. The same short mantra, over and over again. He turned slowly to face his horned counterpart, half-expecting his future self to be berating him, but they appeared just as bewildered as Remus. Instead, as the words grew louder, Remus could have sworn his breaths were coming faster; his posture rising a little straighter.

  Pain is just a catalyst for change.

  The words echoed in Remus’ soul, and with his Mark surging at full power, Remus vowed never to lose sight of himself again.

  Whether that change is good or bad, is up to us.

  The engulfing darkness was suddenly illuminated by a halo of white. The howls of his future reverberated in Remus' ears, and before the last of his vision faded out, Remus saw one last thing.

  His younger self’s smiling visage.

  The light cleared, the dust settled, and Remus returned to a familiar scene.

  Enos’ extended hand.

  “So mortal.” The fiend-king offered his fingers. “What will it be?”

  Remus didn’t move a muscle. He kept his fingers a hair’s width away from the Unbounded. The seconds passed by, and Remus didn’t say or do a thing.

  “Damn the gods, if you don’t make up your mind soon-”

  The room was replaced by a gigantic fist, and Remus relished the sensation of his own hand colliding with the Projection’s face.

  There was a sound Remus could only describe as a forest being crushed into shrapnel, and the hut ceased to exist.

  Remus rushed forward, meeting Enos’ burning, searing grimace head-on. The outside wind suddenly swept against his face, and Remus had never been more thankful for the simple pleasures of nature. Of the world he loved so dearly.

  He grasped the Unbounded by the throat, and with all the force of his magma-titan bearing down, smashed the Projection’s body deep into the earth.

  The fiend struck against a deep layer of stone at the bottom of a crater, reduced to a charred beast of smoking flesh. A figure that was already dispersing away. Remus pressed his leg into their chest, feeling whatever nightmare of anatomy that passed for this creature’s spine compress.

  “Thank you Enos.” Remus placed his palms together and bowed at the waist. “You’ve taught me more than you know.”

  The Projection spat Ichor at his face. “You just threw away your last lifeline, Remus. The Unbounded will crush you, the gods only see humanity as pawns for their Celestial War, and Infinity – reality itself – is against you. What do you possibly hope to achieve?”

  Remus drew back a fist. Inside each knuckle, he implanted the swirling might of Eruptive Will. Infinity, Ambition, and every drop of his bodily energy were all imbued into the blow.

  “I’m going to do what I’ve always done, Enos. I’m going to be delusional.” Remus smiled wickedly, barely holding back a laugh of pure glee. “You’re looking at the man that’s going to bring peace to the cosmos.”

  Remus launched forward.

  “I’m going to end this Celestial War.”

  As if Tanish was smiting the Projection’s body with him, a shock of lightning arched down from the heavens. An electric rush purged all the fatigue out of Remus’, and the ground below his feet rumbled as he pressed all of his weight downwards.

  There was one last hoarse scream. One last rush of scattering Infinity, and the Projection was no more.

  Remus wobbled on his feet, Ichor dripping down his brow and smoke rose from his body.

  Slowly, he turned his head towards a line of hills in the north-east. The direction of his birthplace.

  First Rite.

  Remus clenched his fist. All that was left of his headquarters was a black scar in the land. There was no point dawdling here any longer. He had affairs to attend to – ones years in the making.

  Army or no army, it was time to make his younger self proud.