Against The True Gods

'It's time.'

When Caine heard God Old Sky mention that this space was entirely separated from the real world and its laws, he knew this would be the perfect place for what he wanted to do.

It was finally time for Caine to free himself.

His deep study of the aspects, beyond being necessary for his healing, had all led to this moment.

Many times before, Caine had noticed that his mind—his very existence—was restrained in the most perverse of ways.

The number of enlightenments he had that were forcefully snuffed out due to these restrictions was countless. But beyond that, he had noticed too many other oddities.

After the Fractured Mind Trial, through the many lives he had lived, Caine had realized that as he grew more powerful, the elasticity of his mind vanished, and the spark of his imagination slowly faded.

He could feel his thoughts being shackled, constrained within an invisible box, forcing his mind along a dictated path.

His mind was, is, and would always be his greatest weapon. Yet, he could feel it slowly withering, crumbling under the weight of whatever shackle all mortals seemed to possess.

So today, he would change this. Not only would he free his mind, but he would elevate it to heights none had ever reached.

He would take the greatest risk of his life.

WHOOSH!

Caine took off his robes, storing them away.

With a wave of his hand, he applied countless formations and seals all over the citadel's main hall.

He spent dozens of hours inscribing seal after seal, his focus unwavering as he worked.

Once satisfied, he nodded to himself. With a thought, he destroyed the throne in the middle of the room and got to work.

Biting into one of his fingers, he let his radiant silver-gold blood drip onto the ground. With slow, deliberate strokes, he began to draw an immense, layered formation across the floor, his blood flowing in intricate waves.

Runes and symbols of all known runic disciplines were etched into the formation, merging seamlessly. His rings manifested behind him, whirling in perfect synchronization, aiding him as his Dao Heart plunged him into an unwavering state of focus.

The countless resources within the rings he had collected began to flow out, dissolving into the formation, infusing it with power.

Sweat pooled at his back as his breaths grew labored, his muscles aching under the sheer intensity of the task. But Caine remained undeterred, his mind drowning in an endless sea of calculations and intricate deductions.

After what felt like an eternity, he stopped. His face was pale from the loss of blood, yet his expression remained calm as he stood at the center of the complex formation.

'Decent.'

Caine brought his bloodied hands together and roared, his True Wills suddenly towering into the skies as his royalty flared.

The natural flow of qi in the world was violently disrupted, torn from its paths, and forcibly rewoven into the fabric of his formation.

But he didn't stop there.

RUMBLE!

The world shook as its very laws fractured, their broken cords flowing toward Caine's formation, drawn to its overwhelming gravitational force.

But still, he did not stop.

Blood trickled from his ears as his roar intensified, his presence bending the stream of time itself.

The strings of fate woven into his hands glowed violently, searing his palms like molten brands as he reached out with both hands and—pulled.

"[COME!]"

His voice thundered, shattering the silence of the void.

The great tapestry of fate he had once glimpsed buckled under his grasp, its endless threads bending and twisting, converging into the core of his formation.

The sky above trembled, storms raging as time itself fluctuated in defiance of his will.

BANG!

Caine fell to his knees, heaving for breath, his body trembling from exertion.

'Focus.'

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to stand.

Without hesitation, he plunged his hand into his own chest and, with a violent tug, ripped out his first Dao Heart.

RUMBLE!

The fabric of his existence trembled, threatening to collapse. But his True Will surged forward, wrapping around him, forcing him to stay alive.

Caine dropped his Dao Heart onto the formation below.

His hand moved again, this time grasping his second Dao Heart.

With a merciless pull, he tore it out.

His body shuddered violently, the void of existence yawning open before him, beckoning.

He dropped the second heart onto the formation below.

His senses flickered, consciousness waning, yet he steeled his will and refocused.

'Focus.'

One by one, Caine ripped out his own organs, dropping them onto the formation.

His body convulsed under the strain, but he ignored the searing pain, continuing with methodical precision.

Even as he peeled his skin off, even as he stripped the flesh from his bones, he did not waver.

By the end of it, he was nothing but a skeleton.

With slow, excruciating precision, he brought his bony hands together.

"…[RUPTURE!]…"

His voice rang out, deep and guttural, a demonic resonance echoing through the citadel.

And then—something horrifying occurred.

SHURRRRRRR!

The sound of cloth being torn reverberated through the space.

Caine's aspects, forcibly severed from one another, crumbled into countless glowing runes, sinking into the formation below.

"AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Caine's roar of agony tore through the heavens, shaking the citadel as he felt everything about himself begin to unravel.

Within his empty eye sockets, amethyst flames erupted, burning with madness, with defiance.

His True Will flared once more, holding him alive even as it, too, began to fracture.

"[STABILISE!]… [STABILISE!]… [STABILISE!]… [STABILISE!]…"

In the ancient runic tongue, he roared again and again, desperately commanding the world to obey.

But silence was all he received.

Yet the flames in his eye sockets burned brighter, stronger with each passing second.

His nine rings whirled at a furious speed, revolving with such force that even they began to crack.

Everything was falling apart.

The pain was all-consuming, far beyond what mortals could conceive.

His soul and body had been reduced to dust, his connection to the world severed, his control over qi stripped, his mind crippled.

All that remained was his cracked, crumbling True Will.

All he could sense within this endless void was death. Pure, absolute, undeniable death.

The sensation was the same as his encounter with Uriel.

True Death. Absolute Death.

And yet, at the peak—at the very zenith of his destruction—his voice breached the heavens.

A voice that tore through fate, that defied reality, that screamed into the very core of existence itself.

"[NAMELESS TRUTH: ORIGIN CEREMONY!]"

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

A cataclysmic explosion erupted, tearing through the citadel as the fabric of existence itself trembled under the weight of his words.