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Killian 'Undying' Graves

"Who's the third promise?"

Finally, after nearly an hour of silent flight over the west portion of our shared continent, Leviathan asks me a question. I know the God isn't happy being relegated to a transport for me, even if she needs to come this way, too, but she does it nonetheless. Why? Because Louis Fern asked her to.

One of very, very few beings the Binary Lords have ever respected. I could guarantee that number is counted on one hand, maybe less for humans.

I ponder for a moment if I should truly answer her. The wind roars past us, the landscape blurring beneath, but my eyes are fixed on the horizon. In the distance, I can see it—a vast, seething swarm of sandy motes. Endless devouring insects belong to a lone man who does as he once swore to do. When I was young, he vowed an oath to me that he'd never let a Her cross the Frontier.

It was an odd promise back then. Now... I see he had been planning this all from the start, gambling everything on his strength alone. Even from here, the chaos and destruction shake the air beneath Leviathan's control.

I watch closely, trying to discern the movements, the strategies, the ebb and flow of the fight. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more urgent than the last, but I finally come back around to Leviathan's question.

Should I reveal it? There’s no reason not to, I suppose. Either I complete the second and third promises, or... No. There is no “or.” I will complete them. There is no room for consideration.

Finally, I answer her, after several long minutes, our destination growing closer and closer with each second.

“My third promise...”

I start, my voice drawn out as I find the words that I want to expel.

“It is to kill a certain man. The one who pulled me into all this madness. Who got my mother killed and attempted to indoctrinate me with bullshit.”

Leviathan’s eyes and mind flicker with interest, but she says nothing more. The Godly beast of a demon simply continues to fly, her powerful mind acting as wings to cut through the air. I tighten my grip on her scales as she speeds up a bit further so that I don't lose my footing.

The swarm of insects grows larger on the horizon, the battle ahead becoming more distinct. The Endless. It nears.

Vincent Harvey's Concept is a terrifying thing. All Concepts are unique, and even those with the same name can act differently. The Endless of Desolation does not refer to a limitless tide or an unquantifiable number of something.

It refers to his endless desire for power, for control, and for victory. It is his ambition crystallized into a single word, a single strength that he uses to take others. His ambition, his willingness to take from others to grow himself, is Endless. And it is that Endless that has ruined him, the once unrivaled man. The Hunter who once held love. The husband who once bore a heart. Now, he is but a heartless husk, the Concept warping him beyond measure.

My Immortality is... it does not stand up to his greatness or his madness. That is simply the truth. Aniwye...

She likes to boast of my power, to say that I am equal to that man... but it is not the truth. Thankfully, Leviathan did as I asked, leaving behind a false trail. I don't want Aniwye to be dragged into all this. My boy needs at least one parent. Because I am nearly certain I will die here. Shortly.

There is a divide, a great chasm, a fissure between me and him. It is unbridgable. Vincent Harvey is a once-in-a-millenium talent, better than even my son. And yet... that is why my son is not alone. He's even better than I thought he would be. Three in one. That... that should be enough to match the Wastelander.

Even his title sends shivers down my spine. He is not one that walks through the Wastes. He is the originator of them.

Throughout his travels across the world, thousands and thousands of miles have been ruined by his hands. Blackreach might be the most significant single Waste, but it is not the only one.

As we draw closer, I can feel the weight of my remaining promises pressing down on me.

Kill Usen to end this millennium war.

Kill Vincent to end his tyranny and gain some revenge for myself and my mother.

But instead of crushing me, the two oaths fuel my determination. The man who started all this, the man I promised to kill, is waiting. And I will find him. I will fulfill my promise.

I made him the third, knowing he would be needed to kill Usen. But... I am not so sure anymore. With... my kid... and the others... We might win it without him.

We have Leviathan and Louis, two mighty Gods capable of killing many of their equals on their own. Then, there is my son, Lennon, and me—Godslayers, each of us. Beyond that, I know there are other fighters who can compare.

It isn't impossible to win. Usen's on the surface now, though.

If...

If I wait to fight him, to weaken him, he...

He will kill Her. And then... he will be unstoppable after taking what is Hers from the corpse. Usen is strong, yes. But... Vincent Harvey is... Endless. And who knows how he will act after he takes Her strength? Will it break him further? Will he show his true colors? I believe so. The stronger he gets, the more he changes. He doesn't have as steady of a rock as my son or any of the other Unnaturals. Leviathan has her millennia of life while Louis was... he teetered on the edge of madness and destruction for his whole life. It was a miracle he didn't lose it all. Vincent, though...

I believe he will never stop growing in strength, devouring others to fuel his twisted crusade.

I have to stop him. Or... at the very least, weaken him so he cannot kill Usen alone. Can I do that?

Is that truly something that I can do?

It will have to be, for that is the weight upon my shoulders. I was given life for this purpose. To be Vincent Harvey's anathema.

I do not want to be under his boot for all of eternity. Moreover, I do not want anyone else to suffer as I have under his will and whims. The scars I possess are incomprehensible for a man who can feel pain.

Weighing the strengths of our factions, I think we edge out the Mother Below at this point. She's behind several of her Gods, enhancing them while they try to wear out Vincent, but I know that won't work.

Usen already tried to attack Onyx Gate but failed. She wanted to convert as many as possible while killing those she couldn't to attack Vincent on all sides. But she failed. Why? Because of my boy. And that damned swordsman.

Two Demigods killed more than their weight in Gods, though we did lose several of our powerhouses. However, according to Leviathan, Lennon isn't entirely done yet. Nonetheless, he did his job. On top of that, the boy genius got another two killed with his weaponry.

Usen is nearly down ten Gods since her awakening. She doesn't have very many more, especially those that are threats. Not all Gods are well-versed in combat, after all. We... we can win this without Vincent.

It might be close, and many will die... but...

That is a price I'm willing to pay. The Wastelander must die.

The third promise will precede the second.

"Leviathan."

The God hums with curiosity, our battlefield only another minute away. With her go-ahead, I let her know what I am about to do. She will know better than to stay.

"Drop me off here. I am going to fulfill that promise a bit early. Head back to Onyx Gate and regroup with everyone for the final battle."

The dragon immediately questions me as she slows, knowing better than to enter a war without full attention placed upon it. She is... more confused than she is angry.

"What do you mean, Graves? We are to help Vincent, no?"

I stand tall, removing my hands from her scales as she has slowed enough for me not to be concerned with balance. Leviathan, more so than anyone else, will understand what I have to say.

"Do you wish to live underneath Vincent's rule for the rest of your life? Of your Godly life?"

The God of Thoughts shakes her draconic head, the gigantic beast made of psychic Ether moving on her whim.

"Of course not. But what do you—oh. You are arrogant if you think you can do anything to stop him. He will trample over your corpse and devour you and your Divinity attached to you like an ant. Trust me. I know. Vincent Harvey is a monster more terrifying than any I've ever met. I'd sooner stare Usen down than face him alone."

Leviathan quickly calculates the meaning of my words, coming to the correct conclusion all on her own. She doesn't let down her title. Smart. Dreadfully clever. And yet... she still doesn't see it.

"More threatening than Her? Would you rather face the Mother Below or the Swarming Wastelander? Which would you rather decide your fate? A God who can control your mind and make you love them, or a God that will devour everything you are and am, adding it all to his collection of trophies?"

My ride finally understands what I'm about to face, the thing that I fight for. I don't fight for a victory against Usen. That's never been what this is about.

All that I have ever done has been for a total landslide triumph against all the old men and beings that have enchained my people and my world. I fight for freedom, not survival. Simply living is not enough. It never has been. If it were... I'd have fucked off to some distant corner of the cosmos and rode out my years in peace. If I wanted to simply survive...

Nothing in all the cosmos could truly kill me. That is a fact, not a boast.

"I see. You are more ambitious than I could have imagined. But you will fail. This... this is Vincent Harvey you speak of. You will lose. And yet, you shall go anyway?"

I nod. Then, I slide my legs off the side of the dragon's back, thanking her before the winds take me.

"Yes. Even if I lose the fight, we shall win the war. Totally. There shall never be a dispute over whether or not the right people won. Sometimes, Levi, there are things more important than your own life. I hope you realize that someday."

Wind crashes against my face as I crater toward the ground. Motes of that terrible sand wash along my body, and I fight them off with Death's Divinity. Her Concept grinds away the Endless, but it will not work against the full might of the Wastelander.

Nonetheless, I land with a hole in the ground beneath my feet. Glancing back up, I find Leviathan already rushing eastward. The last being in all the worlds she wants to fight is Vincent. She has twice. And she lost both times. Terribly. Both times, she was lucky to escape with her life.

My feet carry me forward toward the sand before me. The Mortal Veil eats through my flesh and soul as I will it to protect me. All power has a price, especially one that is not yours. Any price, however, is worth it.

I enter the Wasteland created by Desolation and his battle, peering through the countless motes in the air with the Mortal Veil. Using the Concept of Death, the very thing opposite to my Immortality, damages me, but it allows me to see all the lives within the battle.

Seven gods. That's all Usen has left here. There are a few more near Onyx Gate and plenty more still rising or lost on some distant planet after being cut off from her, but they will be dealt with. These seven and Usen stare down Desolation as their combined powers gradually push him back.

The Gods are ones I know, all of them, in fact. None are surprises or absurdly powerful. She already sent her best as enforcers and assassins.

Obviously, in all the worlds Usen has attacked and converted, she's never met real resistance. She's never met humanity. That's for damn sure. She can't plan for shit. What kind of attack plan is this? Split up half your strongest and have them get whittled down?

Fucking ridiculous. This is what we've been up against. A being that lucked out and was born with unstoppable power. Maybe she has something else in store, a hidden piece to this puzzle I haven't found out yet.

But... even if she does, with the amount she's lost, I don't see her turning the tide. Once my boy becomes a God, he'll be able to take on all seven of these at once, too. That would leave Usen to the rest, or vice-versa.

It won't be easy. But it is possible. And if something is possible, then it will be done by Wyatt. I trust in him. I've... seen his growth.

The boy is a miracle in and of itself. He is not the first Wendigo to utterly bond with their artifact and reach the Angelic, but... he is the first that will go beyond that limit. On top of that, Lily shall join him, adding to their already oppressive combination. Perhaps... perhaps I should have implanted an artifact into myself?

No. I would have lost my mind. Wyatt is a special person with a special Sigil. I knew it the moment I found him in that river of blood. Anyone else would have faded to the void long before they met their artifact with equal arms. And that's the only way to do it. If a strong person takes an artifact, they will either override it with their natural Ether, or if they take one equal to them, they will swiftly die.

I can place the future in his hands and in everyone else. I have to guarantee that a world of Vincent's making is not what is in store for our future.

So, my feet continue through the Wastes, gradually lending me enough movement to find the man himself.

Vincent Harvey, God of Desolation, the Endless, the Swarming Wastelander, stands straight with his arms behind his back as a seemingly infinite hive rushes from him to attack the multitude of Gods. Darklight washes over his opponents, enhancing them as I spot the Mother Below in all her glory behind them all.

Concepts wage war against each other while I observe the Endless being faced with Echoes, Serendipity, Mosiac, and Absence, just to name a few. Each is a grand Concept birthing an equally mighty Divinhood, utterly shaping reality either by twisting Vincent's own attacks against him, molding others together, or wholly removing any trace of one.

The many-legged spider stares at me while I approach Vincent. She must know. Of course, she does. I cannot hide from her. Few can. But I know one who can.

Vincent himself turns to face me as I get within a hundred feet, something alerting him to my presence. I doubt he just found me, though. He's probably known I've been coming for a while now. And his words prove it.

"Really, Killian? Have I not taught you better? Stop your foolish ambitions. Settle for what you can do. Now, help me tear down Waukheon's Echoes. The Thunderer is making it difficult to kill the rest."

When I look the man in the eye, I don't see the person I have hated all my life. Vincent Harvey was an ancient human when I was a child. And now... all those wrinkles are gone, sacrificed away with the death of millions of people and many Angels. How cruel.

My fists tighten as my life flashes before my eyes. From the day my mother left this world, I have been under this bastard's control. I don't blame her. She had no choice, just as I have had none. She was losing it, yes, but she still had a few more years left. Vincent could have sent someone else to stop the Blinded Man. She had more time. As for me... I do, too. But...

I want to cry. I want to love. But all my feelings have been fucked up for a long, long time. Countless experimental drugs, training, and even torments were placed upon me. It is all because of him. He wanted to create someone to keep up with him, to fight by his side.

And he knew the truth. It was likely impossible for one to create a monster such as him, even artificially. Nonetheless, he tried. He tried... so fucking hard.

I cannot sleep at night without the nightmares returning. I haven't dreamt for more than an hour at a time since I was a little child. I've... I've been shot up with so many concoctions that alcohol doesn't even affect me anymore. A God of Poison might as well be giving me sugar.

Connecting with others is nearly impossible. It is difficult to speak one word, let alone multiple, that possess any emotion more than rage. So much is bottled within my core that I worry... I might just feel the pain if I release it.

Sure, I can't feel physical pain, and that allowed me to survive the torments where any and all else would have perished due to shock alone, but...

I can't even cry. Whatever Eli did to me in my teens broke that part of me. No matter what eyes I put in. Tears never flow naturally. I can force them using Ether, yet I don't remember what it feels like to cry.

I want to cry. I want to love. I want to... be normal. But...

"Get up, boy. I am sorry. But, mama's gotta go. She's... got a job to do. Don't let your shoulders get too heavy. Enjoy your life, Killian. I'll... I'll see you soon. I promise. Swear on my life. And hope to die."

My mother's final words to me echo within my mind as I step forward. There are men who do what they believe is necessary to save their world. And there are men who torture children with sleep deprivation, waterboarding, and a thousand tiny blades just to see if there is a way around their gifts. I am no saint either, but... that is precisely why this is my duty and my duty alone to shackle him.

The Mortal Veil flaps within the winds pushed around by the Endless. The brief contest in which I lose squarely lasts for only a moment. I stare down Vincent as I make my decision.

That's wrong.

I simply finalize a choice I made long, long ago and take the irreversible step toward that promised judgment.

"Go fuck yourself."