A shield as large as his body formed on the arm he wore his finger. It was the shape of a tall door, a precise rectangle. The Aetherite would gain completely different properties than they did when Ferros Aen forged the blade.
He gathered all of this divinity within the center of his shield, the place where Lucien estimated that the hammer would strike, sparing the minimum amount necessary to shield his body from the impact.
He started to scream out of both fear and sheer will to survive.
The hammer struck the shield right on target. It blew away the space entirely. Everything disappeared as if it were ashes being blown away by the wind, stripping the space to its very constituents.
It was all white as far as the eye could see, the only contrast being offered by the old god's body, even more emaciated and weakened after the fight.
It felt like a clawed demon tightly grasped his heart as he watched the old god stumble around, his body on the verge of being unable to obey the will of that which invaded it.
They weren't his emotions, there was a degree of separation, and yet he bit his lip so hard it started to bleed down his chin. Memories of that god being happy with his wife and daughter, of the three spending some of their happiest moments within the smithy.
"Hey... what... making?" Ferros Aen's wife said from a place where he could not get a look at her.
"Daddy!" His daughter shouted happily as she ran towards him, longing to be picked up by her father.
"Heyyy, what is that?" She asked as she pointed to the anvil behind as her father turned his back towards it.
She was all smiles, and even though Lucien didn't even get to fall in love just yet, he could feel the parental love through Ferros Aen's memories. She was the spitting image of him, too...
"That's... It's something I hope I never need to use... but if I could choose, I would love for Neaella to wear it." Ferros Aen said to his daughter as he gave her gentle kisses on her puffy cheeks.
The last memory within the Firmament ran its course as Lucien was left shivering with tears.
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Thul... if you ever come back and you take this sword in your hand, my message and gift to you will be yours to use. We miss you. More than anything, especially my little devil! I don't know why you left and why you never said anything to me... or anyone else, for that matter. There is no point in asking you this, but... I hope you find happiness... wherever you are.
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Lucien's very soul wept as rage intoxicated every single neuron in his brain.
He had no idea what happened to Ferros Aen or what led to his realm becoming a Firmament, but what he knew was that he had nothing to spill his anger on.
Lucien pushed his hand to the right ferociously, dislocating his shoulder as he did. The shield had already retracted within his ring, and from it burst a weapon that looked more like an ice cream cone.
Its handle was exquisite, made of black Aetherite. The handle was large and bulky, which served as a powerful guard. The blade had now become linear in shape, spiraling about eighty centimeters in length. Each section of the blade had been separated at intervals of twenty centimeters, allowing for independent movement regardless of the way the other sections spun.
On the blade was inscribed in the old language of the gods the words 'Slayer'.
Each of the sections started spinning faster and faster, gathering Divinity deep within its core and circulating it over and over while compressing it into an unimaginably small point in space.
Lucien pointed Ea towards his enemy, letting loose the divinity he had gathered into a single shot.
It was as if the night itself burst out of the tip of the blade, racing towards the creature in a precise line. Right before Lucien bottomed out on his Divinity reserves, his attack had already created a large hole within its abdomen.
Divinity burst out of the old god's body like a carton of spoiled milk, taking on the consistency of sludge.
Lucien rushed towards the old god, pushing the corrupted divinity away. The old god's pupils already went gray. He wouldn't react no matter how hard he hit his knee with the handle of his sword, and his breathing was... shallow.
His eyes moved slowly, like they weighed as much as the universe, finding their way to Lucien. A shriveled hand climbed its way onto Lucien's shoulder.
"I thin...k... I knew... That... you were not him." Ferros Aen said in between short, pained gasps. "Listen to me." Ferros Aen's grip tightened as he lifted his body closer to Lucien's.
"You look exactly like him... like Th...Thul..." Ferros Aen said between bouts of consciousness and deliriousness. "No! Fuck! Come on, old body... this is the last thing I'll ask of you..." He said to himself.
"The gods are not to be trusted. At the very least, Soltherion should NEVER, under any circumstances, reach The Astral Sea. He is but a small fry... If he leads them to The Astral Sea, the divine and mortal realms will be well on their way to meet their end... You... You are the Guardian. P-Pl..."
Ferros Aen met an end no god would ever wish even on their worst enemy. Dying of Concept Errosion would have been much preferable to withering away as your vessel, your very soul, withers into nothingness.
There was not even a body to bury.
"The world of the gods sure is fucked up... huh?!" Lucien said, unable... no... unwilling to hold back the tears any longer.
He swore to himself that he would do his utmost to achieve his old friend's final wishes.
They had not known each other for long, nor did they spend a meaningful amount of time together, but it was undeniable that by the time the last memory sealed within Ea played, a deep connection had been established between the two.