For the person who added this book to their library, thank you. If you would like to leave a comment, I would love to give you a shout-out and a character in the book for being the first to do so.
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Riven, and the girls walked through the parking lot, shadows painted by large monoliths of steel blanketed the ground.
Carrying the spoils of their trip, Riven walked forward in silence, behind him, the girls conversed in whispers.
"Do you think we overdid it?" Aria questioned, looking at the boxes in his hands.
"No. In fact, I think we could have done more."
Aria gave her a puzzled look, like her words came from a different language, "Are you really still the same Nyra I know?"
"He was happy," Nyra remarked, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Why, 'cause we were spending his money?"
I… Don't know," she admitted, voice uncertain. "But…"
"I get what you're saying, Nyra, but we've only known him for a day. It was wrong of me to judge him before, and I know judging him in a positive light is better than a negative, but in the end, it's still due to a lack of understanding on our part."
"I'm not saying there isn't more to it," she whispered, "but we just don't know enough to judge if that's good or bad."
"Then maybe we should take a leap of faith and get to know him," Nyra suggested, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Maybe…"
Riven, who had been walking ahead, paid no attention to the girl's conversation; instead, his eyes remained glued to the truck parked next to his car.
'Finally here,' he thought, watching an older gentleman in a standard tux jump out of the driver's seat. The older man looked around before stopping at Riven.
"My Lord," he yelled out as he ran over to Riven.
"Dutch, what did I tell you about running in a parking lot? It's not–" He could barely finish his words as all the items in his hands were swiftly taken by Dutch.
"My lord, I'm terribly sorry for being late and causing you to handle such mundane tasks." Dutch inclined his head deeply, his gratitude evident as he bowed with heartfelt sincerity.
"Explain"
Leaving his bow, Dutch straightened his tie before answering, "My lord, Lady Herta, and young Miss April needed my assistance with something, and it was particularly urgent."
"I understand, now let me introduce you to these two." He stepped aside, his hand outstretched as he spoke, "They are Aria and Nyra."
With a deep sense of reverence, Dutch inclined his head toward the two, "Wonderful to meet you, young ladies. My name is Dutch, the loyal servant of my lord, Riven."
The girls, obviously flustered by his bowing, quickly return his greeting, "Nice to meet you."
Standing up, Dutch turned back to Riven, "My lord, allow me to transport these items for you."
"Alright, Dutch, there are more items in the mall that we left to come back for. Be sure to get those as well." Riven said, patting Dutch on the shoulder as he walked by. Aria and Nyra quickly followed behind.
The drive back was quiet; the girls were too exhausted to ask the questions lingering in their minds, while Riven's own was lost in thought about the beckoning call resonating through the air, unheard by all except him… and the others.
'The bell, it chimes.' Riven couldn't care less about it, but knew his presence was needed. But why had it rung so soon?
He would have to wait until tomorrow; those beings could wait a bit. What was more important was the two in the car with him.
Pulling into the driveway, the car came to a gradual stop. Riven stepped out first, cracking his neck lightly. He turned and opened the back door, looking at the two sleeping teens. "Now, how am I going to get you both inside?"
"Hey, Riven! Is everything alright?" yelled Sera from the front door, though she didn't wait for his answer as she began walking over.
Once she got over to the car, she instantly understood the problem with a single glance inside. "Oh, I see. This is… quite the predicament." She managed to say while stifling her laughter.
"Ha, ha, very funny, now I'll put one twin on your back and carry the other on mine, alright." Gently picking up Aria, he held her in his arms.
Turning her back to face him, Sera inclined her back to accommodate Aria better, "Go ahead."
Lowering her onto Sera's back, he made sure she was firmly in place before reaching for Nyra, with a bit of help from Sera, she too was securely placed on his back.
"Let's go," he whispered to her softly.
The sun was dipping low, its golden light spilling across the mansion like a lullaby, soft and tender. Their shadows followed them up the path—two figures and two smaller ones nestled close against their backs. It wasn't loud, it wasn't grand, but in that fading light, it felt perfect.
Sera glanced over at him, her voice barely louder than the wind, "Thank you, Riven."
It was a simple thank you, but it felt better than anything in the multiverse, a feeling so strong it felt as if he could win a few multiversal wars. This heartfelt thank you was the greatest treasure he had ever reached since becoming Doom incarnate.
"I'm glad they enjoyed themselves," he answered softly, his smile brighter than the fading embers of the sun.
Walking through the door, they closed it behind them, leaving the waking whispers of night.
***
The next day, the sun was already brightly overhead, Sera, Aria, and Nyra explored the mansion at Riven's suggestion. After a long morning of wandering halls and peeking into endless rooms, they finally made their way back to the living room.
What greeted them was an almost ridiculous spread of breakfast foods—fresh fruit, buttery pastries, crisp bacon, and more eggs than seemed reasonable for four people.
"Wow, Mr. Riven went a bit over the top, huh?" Walking around the table, Aria counted at least three different styles of breakfast food.
"Em," Nyra agreed with a nod.
Aria paused, frowning. "Wait… where is he?"
"Girls," Sera called from across the room. She held up a bright yellow sticky note. "He left a message."
She read it aloud: "I have some business to handle, I'll be back shortly––Riven"
She flipped the note. "Oh, and he left a number in case we need anything. Dutch."
Dutch's name and phone number were scribbled in neat, sharp handwriting beneath the message.
Aria blinked. "So… he just left? Like that?"
"What did you expect?" Sera asked with a raised brow.
"I don't know something flashy, he was just here," she retorted, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked away from her mother's gaze.
"Yeah, 1 hour ago," Nyra said plainly, the certainty in her voice cutting through Aria's words like a knife.
"Ok, whatever, let's just eat." Grabbing a plate, she huffed and turned her focus to the food instead.
While they ate, far away in another multiverse, Riven's figure appeared. He would be completely unrecognizable if any of them were to see him. His expression was cold as he walked through the hall filled with his equals.
A robe clung to him like a shadow of forgotten tales—its gray folds woven from chaos itself, a color not dull but endlessly shifting, like smoke caught in moonlight. The hue spoke not of indecision, but of Origin—the primordial force before form, before fate.
Gold-threaded trim traced the edges, shimmering as it caught the light, a quiet whisper of Divinity earned, not inherited. Power not just worn, but remembered.
Across his back, rising in elegant arc, a black dragon curled through the fabric—its form not stitched so much as embedded, like a creature sleeping just beneath the surface. It was more than a symbol. It was a mark of what he had become under the pillar of Origin.
But it was the insignia over his heart that held the gaze: a planet, cradled and bound by five horsemen astride their mounts, each carved in silver and obsidian thread—Conquest, War, Plague, Famine, and Death. A closed circle. A seal of Doom, not in threat, but in prophecy.
Any who saw it cleared his path, afraid of the power that could even affect Paragons like themselves. And what he wore was no ordinary cultivation robe. It was a mantle of contradiction—Chaos and godhood, origin and end—a quiet herald of one who had been beyond, and chose to return.
Proof of his status at the top as one meant to bring upon destined End to all.
'Cowards,' he thought, watching beings of such strength cower in fear at his very presence. Had they not gone through the same challenges as himself, were was their pride.
"It's good to see you haven't changed, Vorrak-Thaneir-Solkuras," a voice called out.
Riven, facing towards the owner of the voice, a touch of displeasure showing, "Tharnis, I don't recall Strife having the right to call me without respect."
"And I don't recall Doom caring about respect." He retorted, a playful smirk stretching across his face.
The hall fell silent. Both Paragons walked towards each other, each step resounding louder in the hearts of the spectators. A fight seemed imminent between Strife and Doom.
They froze. Then, like coiled springs, their arms lashed out. The sharp crack of impact rang out—flesh on flesh, sudden and raw.
"It's good to see you, Riven."
"Heh, yeah, it's good to see you too, Gilgamesh." Riven wore a warm yet tired smile, looking at his long-time friend.
No matter the universe, as long as it had Earth, then most likely the inhabitants knew who he was, Gilgamesh, king of heroes. But to Paragons, he was Tharnis, the paragon of Strife and best friend of Doom.
He stood draped in a robe that blurred the line between cloth and armor—plates of blackened gold shimmered beneath layered ash-gray silk, the fabric shifting like smoke across his shoulders.
Etching of spirals and fractured patterns adorned his chest plate, marking the constant motion of conflict and unresolved tension.
His sleeves hung open at the arms, cinched at the biceps by coiled golden bands in the shape of serpents biting their own tails—symbols of eternal strife. Around his neck, a crimson mantle flowed down like liquid flame, tethered by five thin chains—each one representing a broken pact.
"Not wearing your signature red today?"
"Well, it's not every day a king leaves his throne, and plus, the meeting is taking place here in the original multiverse."
The original Multiverse was formed from the original Universe when the Multiverse turned into an Omniverse. What does that mean? The original universe was the first place to be created by the creator. From there, a Multiverse, then an Omniverse.
This, for the most part, was all Paragons were allowed to know: that the Original Multiverse was the most important place in the Omniverse and the perfect place to live after a long lifespan.
"But anyway, Riven, do you know who called this meeting?"
"I don't know, but I can only assume it was Vanity again. She can never stop complaining about simple things."
Just as Gilgamesh opened his mouth to speak, an unfathomable pressure radiated through the hall, sending chills down their spines. Both looked toward each other with the same thought in their head, "Aeons!"
There were only twelve of them, and only they could bear the title, each one governing over something essential to the Omniverse. They were so incomprehensibly strong that it would take the destruction of an Omniverse due to natural causes for a Paragon to even come close under normal means.
Their thoughts were confirmed as a path formed down the center of the hall. From it, a man walked, a playful smirk stretched across his face. His platinum white hair swaying gently behind him, his dull gray eyes coldly scanned the crowd as he walked.
Almost instantly, upon seeing him, Riven and Gilgamesh walked forward, silently falling in line behind him. Not a word was said, not out of fear, but respect. The Aeon before them was the strongest of the twelve and most dangerous, yet also the most lighthearted. The Aeon of Origin.
After ensuring there was no other Aeon, the others followed behind them, crowding up where he would be speaking.
Turning to face the Paragons, he floated up into the air before speaking, "I will not take up much of your time. The reason for calling you all is to announce the new Rule going into place.
From this day forth, all grade 3 and 4 are to accept challenges from divine beings below them; should they lose, they will forfeit their divine role and para-causality."