(A/N) I originally posted this on AO3 and decided to broaden the audience so I posted here. There is no beta currently, if you'd like to offer your help, message me on tumblr (id: ijouno) Enjoy!
Softness, like the gentle kiss of the first rays of daylight. The immense pain that had torn his body asunder felt like a distant echo, leaving him in this dream-like weightlessness.
It was over, he knew that much. He paid for the mistakes of his ancestors and the gods with his life. A part of him wanted to scream at the injustice: they robbed him of his one chance at life, he had left Insomnia all those years ago brimming with curiosity about the unknown world sprawling beyond the Wall. He did see many sights, but they all passed as a blur, on nerves, terrified of the moment someone would recognize him and sell him out to Niflheim. He barely lived.
He now understood the profound sadness he glimpsed in his father's eyes when he thought he wasn't looking. Every time he left the Citadel after his short visits during his teenage years, every time his father told him to savor each and every moment of his life. He must have known about the fate that awaited his son. It must have been horrible.
But it was too late. He could only hope he left a legacy behind him and a world where they can build for a better future. He hoped his friends could see it, their future. They had wanted to fight till the bitter end alongside him like they knew he'd do for them. He wondered if he'd see them again... sooner than he would have hoped. He remembered seeing them in the void of the Crystal, but he had hoped, and still hoped they only appeared to his side because he had unknowingly being pulling at their bond when he had called forth all of his powers...not because they lost their own fight.
The calm whistle of a breeze lulled him to consciousness. He pried his eyes open, expecting to see the strange sight of the afterlife for the first time. But instead he found himself staring down at the familiar long stretch of the throne room, with its towering pillars, dusty black marble, rubbles from a past battle and arching staircases that led to the dais, where he sat exactly like when he took his last breath.
It was eerily quiet, there was no distant cries of daemons, only the breeze whispering to him. The sky was turning grey
What was happening?
Could really this be the afterlife?
The massive double doors groaned painfully as they were pushed open and a bright figure emerged, radiant like a sun. He stared, dumbfounded, at the svelte silhouette that approached him silently, but as she got closer, he recognized her smile, one that jarred happy memories from his childhood. A bright smile that conflicted with the sadness in her eyes.
"...L-luna...?" he shakily whispered as she knelt before him, taking his sullied hand in hers, her smile ever present.
"Do you wish to see it?" she sang and he frowned in confusion.
"The Dawn."
When it rose for the first time in a decade over the horizon, the world seemed to freeze. Pale faces, glued to their windows watched the fiery orb setting the mountain range ablaze and paint the world in a golden light.
Young children cried at the unknown sight and many attempted to shield their sensitive vision with their hands as the sun continued its steadfast ascension across the sky among the dark particles of the Scourge that fell upon them like a torrential rain, leaving only a blue sky in its wake. The sun didn't stop its course and no dark clouds came to obscure it save for the occasional black particles that danced like an angry swarm of insects as it was carried by the wind.
They stayed indoors, scared that looking from the other side of the glass at the phenomenon would break the spell and the nightmare would begin anew. It was only for the second dawn that the first residents set foot outside and shed tears at the beauty of their new future.
The cell phone shook against Iris' ear as she pleaded, over and over to hear the familiar voice of his brother pick up on the other end. She had tried all morning and always ended on the cheesy voicemail he recorded with his wife. She couldn't despair yet. It has almost been 48 hours since the bright light that streaked across the sky and slaughtered all daemons in its wake, and 48 hours since her brother's silence. She could only hope it was a coincidence.
She almost dropped her phone when it jerked to life in her hand, heart hammering, finally seeing the number she had wished for she slammed it against her ear.
"Gladdy!"
"Iris." said another voice, mature and older, one that belonged to her hunting partner, Cor. Her heart sank and legs shook.
"My brother... why are you on his phone?"
Profound dread crept up on her as tears filled up her eyes and gripped her voice.
"We found them in Insomnia-"
Insomnia? Everybody knew the place was...had been a no-go-zone, the biggest den of daemons no sane hunters would dare to approach. Gladdy knew how dangerous it was.
"What does that mean?!"
"Iris, they should be fine." Cor said calmly, though she could detect a hint of bewilderment in his voice. "They made it, against all odds."
Iris couldn't help the sob of relief that escaped her throat as her legs folded beneath her, back sliding against the wall.
"Thank gods..." she cried.
Guns clutched tightly in their hands, the hunters advanced more deeply in the desolate Lucian Capital, ears strained and eyes peeled for the slightest movements. Nothing, no birds, barely the whisper of a distant breeze. Light of a new morning cascaded through the skeletal skyscrapers and the shards of glass glittered like stars at their feet. Bright, even through the shades the hunters wore over their unaccustomed eyes. The medics they had been escorting already left with their charge: three gravely wounded men who miraculously survived for who knows how long, out in the open, on the cold steps of the Citadel, unconscious. They were searching for any other sign of life beside those three. So far, no luck.
Something was happening here, it hung in the air, like an aura and made their hair stand on end. It did not feel hostile, though it warned them of an unspeakable power, one that could easily harm an unworthy. Burn them if they were to touch its source. And the feeling only got stronger as they climbed the steps of the Citadel, prickling their skins like static. The younger hunters shook in their boots once they entered the lobby. The lights were on, papers and touristic pamphlets scattered around under the layer of dust.
"Sir..." stammered a recruit, knuckles white around his loaded firearm." I believe we should not be here." Other hunters nodded at his comment and their Head Hunter turned to them, an eyebrow raised and observed their pale faces.
"The...thing that killed the daemons might still be here," the young man continued. "We shouldn't approach anything that powerful."
The elevator made a soft ping as it arrived at their level.
"The strong light we saw from afar?"
The youths quickly nodded, eyes filled with anxiety.
"The same light that killed every speck of the Scourge...but spared the three men we just rescued...and every other living being across the world" the Head Hunter sighed as he stepped inside the elevator, but kept the door open behind him. "That thing never meant to hurt us I'm sure, if you're too scared to proceed you can stay back and search the streets, anybody else come with me. We have a job to do."
None agreed, claiming the heavy aura was getting to their heads, so their leader continued. He couldn't blame them. Everybody was on nerves, this was all new and seemed too good to be true, no wonder they preferred to stay at a distance. And it was true, the impressive aura that surrounded him only seemed to press down on him the further the elevator climbed.
It didn't take long to find the epicenter of the event that purged the daemons from their world. His vision twisted, as if he was looking at the world through a lens. The lights shone in the purest whites, the shadows like ink and motes of light floated eerily in the air, like otherworldly fireflies and his being shook like a gong was struck close to him.
The unspeakable power they all felt from afar was too close for comfort, but still did not harm him.
The doors open with another soft ping he barely heard over his ringing ears. He braced himself against the wall, thinking about going back down and calling it a day, but the symptoms did not get worse, but nor did they ease.
It felt like...standing on the border of two realities, between a dream-like state and consciousness
He took a deep breath and slowly made his way forward. The hallway opened up in a large antechamber, comfortable seats positioned all around the room, with a high ceiling. Paintings, magnificent, who seemed to be brimming with life under the strange light basking the place. They adorned each wall, detailing the legend of the Genesis...And it all seemed familiar now...in a poetic sense, even though he never was an aficionado of mythology:
The myriad of demonic creatures crawling up from below as the Six sat there, helpless and looked up to the mysterious figures who reigned above them, a single unknown figure, with 3 Messengers at his side, channeling the power of the Goddess of the Dawn through him and rained swords upon the daemons below.
O'er rotted Soil, under blighted Sky, a Dread plague the Wicked has wrought
The Genesis wasn't their past, but the rebirth of their world, their Dawn.
Tearing his eyes from the frescoes, he stumbled towards the open doors of the mighty Throne Room, where only the selected few could grace its walls. Even through the destruction that befell it during the Fall, it was magnificent evoking the riches of the Royals and history that dated back to the past Era. His gaze fell on the other end of the room, up on the dais, sitting on the Throne was a still silhouette, who looked to be peacefully sleeping.
Frail as the body looked, the aura poured from it in tidal waves because there sat the ascended King of Kings, the one who ruled over the Gods.