Lyria's POV
"You should be running right now."
Void's voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once. We stood in absolute darkness—not the kind where your eyes adjust, but the kind that makes you forget what light even was.
Kael's hand tightened around mine. "Where are we?"
"Everywhere. Nowhere. The space between existence and non-existence." Void's shape shifted, becoming almost visible—a figure made of absence wearing a cloak of nothing. "This is where I've been watching for the past ten thousand years. Waiting for something interesting to happen."
My voice was still weak, but I forced the words out: "You said we'd wish the Supreme Deity had killed us. Why?"
Void laughed, and the sound made my bones ache. "Because the truth I'm about to tell you is worse than death, little songstress. Once you know it, you'll carry it forever. And knowledge like this... it changes you."
"We're listening," Kael said, though his voice was tight with tension.
"Very well." Void circled us, though it had no feet to walk with. "Let me tell you about the Great Lie. The story every god knows, the history written in every sacred text. Do you know it?"
I nodded. Even with my fragmented memories, I remembered the basic story: "In the beginning, the Supreme Deity created everything from nothing. Light from darkness. Order from chaos. Gods to maintain balance."
"A beautiful tale," Void said. "And completely false."
The darkness around us shifted, showing images like we were watching a movie made of shadows.
"In the true beginning," Void continued, "there was only me. The Void. The Nothing. I was perfect in my emptiness—no pain, no joy, no existence, no death. Just peaceful nothingness."
The images showed an endless black void, calm and still.
"Then something happened. I don't know what. Maybe the universe got bored. Maybe existence demanded to exist. But a crack formed in the Nothing."
We watched as a tiny line of golden light split the darkness.
"From that crack came the First Beings—creatures of pure chaos and creation. They didn't create anything deliberately. They just... were. And everywhere they went, reality spawned around them like a disease."
The images showed massive, impossible creatures emerging from the crack. They looked like the monsters I'd accidentally released—all teeth and eyes and forms that hurt to look at.
"These First Beings were the true creators," Void said. "They made the stars by breathing. They made planets by thinking. They made LIFE by dreaming. And they made the gods—the Supreme Deity and all his children—to be their servants, their toys."
My blood ran cold. "The gods were created to serve the monsters?"
"Not monsters. Creators." Void's tone was almost fond. "But yes. The gods were born as slaves. For eons, they served. They built worlds at the First Beings' command. They shaped reality however their masters desired."
The images showed younger versions of gods I recognized—including a much younger Supreme Deity, bowing before a massive creature made of light and teeth.
"But the gods got smart," Void continued. "Or perhaps they got greedy. They realized they'd inherited creative power from their masters. Enough power to... rebel."
We watched as the Supreme Deity and his children attacked their creators. The war that followed was apocalyptic—entire galaxies burned, dimensions collapsed.
"The gods won?" I whispered.
"They cheated," Void corrected. "They couldn't destroy the First Beings—those creatures were too fundamental to reality. So instead, they sealed them away. They built prisons across all existence, locked them with divine magic, and then..." Void paused dramatically. "They rewrote history."
The images showed the Supreme Deity literally changing books, altering memories, reshaping the past.
"Every record was changed. Every god who remembered the truth was erased. A new history was written—one where the gods were always in charge, where they created everything, where they were the rightful rulers." Void's voice turned cold. "And the First Beings became myths. Monsters. Demons to scare children. Their names were forgotten. Their legacy buried."
"But why?" Kael demanded. "Why go through all that?"
"Because," Void said simply, "if mortals knew the truth—that gods were created as servants, that they stole their position through betrayal—would anyone worship them? Would anyone give them the faith and prayer that sustains their power?"
The answer was obvious. No. Nobody would.
"So the gods built their empire on a lie," Void continued. "They harvested mortal souls not just for power, but because they're terrified. Terrified that one day, the First Beings will wake up. And when they do..." Void smiled with teeth it shouldn't have. "Well. Imagine how you'd treat servants who locked you in a cage for ten thousand years."
I felt sick. Everything I thought I knew was wrong. The entire divine order was built on betrayal and lies.
"But what does this have to do with us?" I asked.
"Everything, dear songstress." Void's non-eyes focused on me. "Because your Voice of Truth is the one power that can undo the rewriting. When you sing, reality remembers what truly happened. That's why they sealed your voice—not just because you knew about soul harvesting, but because your very existence threatens to expose the Great Lie."
My legs nearly gave out. "I could... I could make everyone remember? All the mortals, all the gods, everyone?"
"If you sing the right song, yes." Void circled behind Kael. "And you, Silent God. Do you know why you were cursed to feel nothing?"
Kael's jaw clenched. "Because I tried to make a mortal immortal."
"Partially true. But the real reason?" Void leaned close to Kael's ear. "You were getting too close to the truth. Your mortal lover was a scholar, wasn't she? She was researching ancient history, asking questions about the First Beings. You were helping her. And the Supreme Council couldn't have that."
Kael's face went white. "They killed her. Not because I broke divine law, but because she knew too much."
"And they cursed you so you'd stop caring enough to investigate further." Void straightened. "But then you met this lovely goddess, and suddenly you started feeling again. Started caring again. Started asking questions again."
It all made horrible sense. We weren't just enemies of the Celestial Court—we were threats to the entire lie their power was built on.
"So what do we do?" My voice cracked. "How do we fight them?"
"You don't," Void said cheerfully. "You've already done your part. By releasing the First Beings, you've started a countdown. They're waking up. Soon, very soon, they'll remember everything. And when they do, they'll come for their traitorous servants."
"That's not helping us!" I shouted. "That's just swapping one group of tyrants for another!"
"Is it?" Void tilted its head. "The First Beings never demanded worship. They never harvested souls. They never lied to anyone. They simply existed and created. Who's the real tyrant—the ones who create freely, or the ones who demand payment for creation?"
I didn't have an answer for that.
"Here's what I propose," Void said. "I'll give you a choice. Option one: I send you back to the mortal realm with your memories erased. You live simple, peaceful lives, never knowing any of this. The gods hunt you for a while, but I'll make sure they never find you."
"And option two?" Kael asked.
"Option two: I teach you the Old Magic. The same magic the First Beings used. You become strong enough to stand between the gods and the First Beings when they clash. You try to prevent the war that will destroy billions of innocents caught in the middle." Void paused. "But learning the Old Magic will break you. It will remake you into something neither god nor First Being. Something new. Something that might not be human anymore."
My heart pounded. Forget everything and be safe, or become a monster to try to save everyone?
"How long do we have to decide?" I whispered.
"About thirty seconds," Void said. "Because the Supreme Deity just figured out where you are, and he's about to break into my realm with an army."
As if on cue, golden cracks appeared in the darkness around us. Through them, I saw thousands of divine warriors preparing to attack.
"Twenty seconds," Void said calmly.
I looked at Kael. He looked back at me. In his silver eyes, I saw the same desperate determination I felt.
We'd both been victims of the gods' lies. We'd both lost everything to their tyranny. And now we had a chance—maybe our only chance—to change everything.
"We choose option two," I said.
"We?" Void sounded amused. "I only offered the choice to you, Lyria. Kael's decision is separate."
I grabbed Kael's hand. "Then we both choose it. Together."
Kael squeezed back. "Together."
"How romantic," Void said. "Very well. But don't say I didn't warn you. The Old Magic requires sacrifice. To gain power over reality, you must give up part of your reality. Your memories. Your emotions. Your very identity."
The golden cracks widened. Divine soldiers began pouring through.
"Last chance to run," Void whispered.
I raised my chin. "Teach us."
"Teach us," Kael echoed.
Void laughed—genuinely delighted. "Oh, you two are going to be such fun to watch. Very well. Let's begin with lesson one."
The darkness exploded inward, piercing through our chests like frozen spears. I screamed as something fundamental inside me began to break and reshape.
Through the agony, I heard Void's voice:
"Lesson one: To command reality, you must first survive having your reality torn apart. Let's see if you break."
My vision went white with pain. I felt my memories starting to shatter—my name, my past, my identity, all of it fragmenting like glass.
The last thing I thought before the pain consumed me completely was:
Kael. Where's Kael? I can't lose him. Not when I just found—
Then even that thought dissolved.
And I forgot who Kael was.
I forgot who I was.
I forgot everything.
In the emptiness that remained, something new began to grow.