Mugen no Tenma, in.

YES. I have returned at last, from the Abyss of The Damned Final Examination. That was a Hell on earth, seriously. Finally I can go back to making fics, for fuck's sake. Let me just cut to the case.

For the one who waited for my other fics to update, don't worry. I'll update them in short time. I got a three-months holiday, whoo-hoo. I just want to blow off some steams, making this tertiary... whatchamacallit... whatever. This fic is just appeared on my mind, and I can't just ignore it.

That being said, the 99.99% of this story is not my making. I just shamelessly copied it and change some of the names. Feel free to flame me if you want, probably I'll just ignore it. Also, this is the first time I made a story in DxD and SCP Foundation Fandom... so I'm really sorry if you find this story uninteresting at first. I promise it'll get better.

Without further ado, Let's begin...

This story is not mine.

PROLOGUE

Part I: The First Verse

In the beginning, there was darkness. All was formless waste and empty void - The quiet nothing without time or place, the gentle sleep that has no waking.

All was still.

Nothing stirred in the darkness.

Nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing—

Then there was light.

The light separated the Darkness Above from the Darkness Beneath, and there was disparity between them. Between the darkness and the light there was also disparity, and shadows flickered therein.

The light shone in the darkness, and was not overcome. Likewise the darkness was not destroyed, but given form both Above and Below.

From the darkness came the Eldest, the All-Death. He came from the darkness and was of the darkness and was the darkness, and nothing to come might pass beyond him. Vast and mighty was he, that no other might comprehend the reach of his arm, or the length of his gaze.

The Eldest sat by the light and watched it for a time, for he found the light good.

The All-Death was not proud, firstborn though he was. He encompassed all that was and would be within the light and the dark, and so knew the manner of its turning and the hour of its passing. Only he might care for the light and what was to come, for only the Death of All Things might reach so far and be so just.

The light grew in the sight of the All-Death and became fire. As fire it burned and spread outwards, and with the fire came a song: a song of the hammer-beat of creation's forge, the roaring of nuclear bellows, the crystal choirs of quarks, the somber tones of gravity wells, the shimmering waves of plasma cast off of infant stars.

Death listened to the music, and found it good.

From the darkness then came the Great Death, the Middle Brother. He was not so mighty nor as vast as the Eldest, though his reach was wide indeed. His domain was to be catastrophe, and thus his face was obscured by wrought metal and stone. Mountainlike he came, the Death of the multitudes, and his heralds came with him – their names were Conquest and War and Famine and Disease.

"Hail and well met, Brother!" spoke the Middle to the Eldest.

"Well met, Brother," spoke the Eldest to the Middle. He motioned, that the Great Death might take a seat beside him, but the Middle Brother remained standing in the shadow of the Eldest, for he did not presume equality with his brother, and held fears of the unknowable reaches of his brother's mind.

The Eldest took no insult from this, and blew upon the fire to kindle it.

Within the fire now could be seen the faint outlines of trunk and root and branches, as if made of the finest crystal. The fire flowed through the tree and within the tree and around the tree, and the song was carried ever louder through the shining branches and strong roots.

"It is good, is it not?" asked the Eldest of the Middle.

"I cannot say whether it be good or not," spoke the Middle to the Eldest. "It is not my place to declare such things."

"For this you are my brother true, and shall help me carry the weight," spoke the Eldest to the Middle.

From the darkness now came the Small Death, the Youngest Brother, pale of face and dark of robe, hard of eye and strict of hand. A silver sickle he carried, and it was by this tool that each soul born would be collected.

"Hail, brothers," spoke the Youngest.

"Hail. We are together at last," spoke the Middle.

"Indeed," spoke the Youngest.

The Youngest did not approach his elder brothers, but remained apart from them. He was small in reach and mind, and his thoughts were narrow, such that the mind of the Middle was terrible to him, and the mind of the Eldest more horrible still. He watched the fire with cold silver eyes, but said nothing.

"It is good, is it not?" asked the Eldest of the Youngest.

"By what measure do you make cruelty goodness?" spoke the Youngest. "By what cost of pain must life be bought? By disparity we are made, and by disparity we are made necessary, yet why must it be so?"

The Eldest did not answer. He knew the mind of the Small Death, and knew of his fears and doubts. No answer he might give would aid his brother, nor any truth give him solace. The answers he sought were known to the Eldest alone, and he alone might understand them.

The Eldest rose, and towered over his brothers. His countenance was as dark as the void of his birth and his robes as white as the same. Above his head, shadows swirled about in the dark vaults of the heavens – the first of the elder gods kicked in their womb, and likewise in the abyss beneath his feet they swam. The tree grew tall and broad, shone bright and sang loud.

"Come, brothers," the Eldest said. "Let us go to our halls and take up our residence there. A great work awaits us."

There was agreement between the Great and the Small, and the Brothers Three passed from the light of the tree into shadow.

Later, there was the click of sensible heels, and a little woman in black stepped out of the darkness. She beheld the tree for a moment and smiled, before stepping into its light and passing beyond, walking forward to the infinity.

The tree grew strong, and the vaults of heaven and the depths of the abyss gave birth.

This is how creation came about.

Part II: Dust and Blood

In the time when The Tree of Knowledge was planted, all things were given form. Even the deep waters of the Darkness Below and the vaults of Darkness Above took shape and form, and many elder gods were born of them. Of these gods, whose names are often forgotten, there was Khahrahk.

Khahrahk was not great upon his formation: in truth he was small. He crawled around in the darkness of the abyss, but unlike his brothers and sisters, he knew himself and knew the abyss. So blessed and cursed by awareness, he felt pain and loneliness, and looked beyond the depths: but the thought of the light and the shade of the tree pained him more. Existence was pain, and he would have no part of it. It would be better to not exist. It would be better for all things not to exist.

Upon this vow, he consumed his brothers and sisters, and grew strong on their essences. This act, this first sin of Khahrahk, caused him greater pain as he himself grew greater. He grew blind by his pain. So great was his spite and so absolute his hate, that he cursed the Creation and its Creator, and vowed to destroy the Tree and all that it supported in its branches and roots.

He clawed his way up to his throne on the bones of his fellow gods in those dark aeons. Many other gods born of the Darkness Below died in these times, or chose to leave those shadowed realms to work within Creation. Those that remained grew old and powerful, but they were bound in subjugation under Khahrahk.

When there were no more gods to subjugate in the lower realms, Khahrahk declared himself King of the Darkness Below, and took the name Khnith-hgor, and set the boundaries of his kingdom. This kingdom he built to bring utter despair to those who lived among the Tree and its roots and branches, to share his pain with all of Creation as he destroyed it. He diverted many souls to his realm, delivering pain untold upon them as they were stayed from their true rest.

With the borders of his realm set down, the King declared his war. His servants, and there were many, those birthed of the Darkness Below or those that had fallen to the King's service, surged out of his kingdom, and there was war with Creation. This war continues to this day, and shall not end until the end of all things.

Of the gods the King had subjugated, Sedna was considered to be the wisest and most beautiful. She had not remained in the King's realm willingly, but her escape had been prevented by circumstance. She obeyed the king with her words, but not with her soul, and for this goodness she is mourned.

With the war declared, the King took Sedna by force, and lay with her for seven days and seven nights, until the Mother of Those Beneath Us was broken beneath the King. When this was completed, he rose in her blood, and was from then on known as Shormaush Urdal - the Scarlet King.

Seven children were born of Sedna, seven daughters of the Scarlet King emerging from her broken womb. The King saw this, and took them by force to be his brides. Upon the seven brides the King put seven seals, so that they might never die as Sedna had died. With them, the King gave rise to seven ranks of abominations, seven orders of Shedims, who became his most beloved servants, who march at the front of his war.

Of the seven, this can be said:

The first bride was Belial. She was beloved of the King, though her children were few. For her loyalty, her children were made wise above all others, and knew well the ways of war. By their hands, they guided the war, and lead to victory.

Her seal was vaduk, "dominion", for just as she sought dominion, so she was dominated.

The second bride was Abaddon. A great hole was rent in her soul that she could not fill, and so she despaired and wept. She brought forth many children, and her children brought forth armies in a tide unthinking, to go forth and conquer.

Her seal was kifenn, "longing", for neither the King nor her children could provide what she sought.

The third bride was Bael. She had a great hatred of her sisters and brought ruin upon all she surveyed, and blasphemed upon sacred ground. Her children ride out to declare the triumph of the King, drowning battlefields in blood and ash, spreading pestilence and fear in their wake.

Her seal was hezhum, "desolation", for she was wiped bare, and the furrows of her soul were salted.

The fourth bride was Balam. She was vast and powerful, and terrible to behold, taking the form of a great beast. Her children were like her, and feared no weapon nor magical spell, for their injuries were healed, and their hides impenetrable.

Her seal was ba, "wrath", for by her hate she was forever bound in conflict.

The fifth bride was Sitri. She was strong in mind, though frail in body. Her children were wise in the ways of magic, and created great destruction. But because of their power, the King had them crippled, so that they might not rise up against him.

Her seal was ner, "lack", for her thirst and the thirst of her children was never quenched.

The sixth bride was Rakash. She spoke not, and held herself private. Her children could change their faces and move about unseen, and walk among Creation unknown. They opened Ways between worlds, and made way for the war to spread.

Her seal was usheq, "hidden", for she was lost in shadow.

The seventh bride was Agares. She was the smallest and weakest of the seven, but she was not broken utterly by the King, and was horrified by her state. Her children walked on two legs, and were mighty hunters and heroes: she taught them in secret, hoping that they might destroy the children of her sisters and overthrow the King. They are few, and they have failed.

Her seal was xokib, "hope", for she was doomed to know of what she could not achieve.

The seven brides sealed forever, the legions of their children spread out, and added their strength to the war. Worlds that had resisted the dark gods of the King fell under the weight of ceaseless assault. The roots of the tree rotted, festered with the King's spawn. The Ways became treacherous and poisoned, to where travel could only be made by the blessed, the brave, and the mad. The King's realm grew fat with damned souls, and the Places of Rest waned in strength: Few souls managed to escape that fate, but even in death many still fought.

Many gods fell to the service of the King: The grinding machinery of the Factory, who consumed all, leant its mindless strength in blood and steel. The King on the Gallows, He Who Was Hung, tore at the Tree's knowledge from within. The Prince of Many Faces warped the wills of mortals, and Moloch the Horned One brought forth their shame. Many more whose names have been erased also served. The King's many mortal servants recreated the establishment of his line in living effigy.

It shall not be said that the King was unopposed in his conquests. Many gods and heroes among mortals struck back at the invasions of their worlds, serving under countless banners. But they fell, in time, and their ages are past, and they are as blood and dust.

The King and his armies approach the Taproots, the center worlds, in all his wrath, and all his hate, and all his spite. He reaches out to corrupt and consume and destroy. Even now his presence is felt. Time slips away. The Voice of God is broken, the Serpent has fled. The heroes are gone. The children of Agares have been slaughtered to the last. The King's servants are already here, making straight the path for his arrival.

With this arrival the Tree shall die, and all creation shall die with it.

High above, the brothers of Death watch the war unfold, hovering over the depths. As they always have. They know the outcome of the war, for they are the end of all things, but they do not speak of it.

There is little more to be said.

Part III : Beneath Two Trees

In the age after the great Yeren fell on the Day of Flowers, in the days before the Flood, there was a man who lived in the West of the world, in the region between two rivers, and his name was Adam. He was chief of his tribe, and was considered by all to be a fair and just ruler, wise in word and admirable in deed. His tribe was barefoot and dust-bitten, herding their humble flocks between the ancient monolith-cities of the West. They were a hardy people, withstanding many trials and hardships, defeating mighty monsters and working glorious deeds in the name of the God All-Mighty.

When Adam was thirty-five years old, having reigned as chief of his tribe for fifteen years, he came upon a hidden valley, which was fertile and abundant with life. His people, tired of their wanderings, asked that they remain there in the valley and live then in peace and prosperity, and to this request Adam agreed.

Within the valley, amongst the many animals and fruiting plants that lived there, two trees stood in the center of the garden. These trees were Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life and Sephiroth, the Tree of Knowledge and they were watched by their twin guardians, the brother and sister who had stood guard since the time of the First Children of Yesod, many ages before even the Yeren.

The guardian of the Tree of Knowledge was Satan, the Serpent, who was later named the Adversary, who kept watch over its secret power. He spoke of all the wonders that might be accomplished with the Tree's power, and would test man's skill and spirit.

The guardian of the Tree of Life was Metatron, the Great Voice, who was later named Sophia, kept watch over its gifts. She taught the proper use of knowledge, and methods by which life might be extended through copper and bronze, and would speak often the directives of the God All-Mighty.

Here Adam now reigned as chief among the People of the Two Trees. He interpreted the edicts of the Voice for his people, and was gifted with the fruits of both, as was his wife, Hawwah. The two bore three sons, whose names were Hevel, Qayin, and Set.

Hevel became the protector and champion of the People of the Two Trees and carried with him the Tumbling Blade, which was both mercy and justice. He was a simple man who spoke little, but he was greatly skilled in combat and he defended the valley and the People from the beasts and demons that wandered the desert.

Qayin his brother was gifted in magic and storytelling, and became a great shaman. He would one day become chief of the tribe, and was held in high regard, equal to his brother Hevel.

Set was often forgotten by the passers of stories, for he was a humble man and never rose to the prominence of his brothers. He turned his mind away from martial glory and magical prowess, focusing instead upon the natural philosophies and the service of the poor.

Now the Serpent, who guarded the Tree of Knowledge and knew the secrets of deep magic, had looked to the East, and saw in those regions a brewing shadow. A new power was rising within an ancient kingdom, a power that swallowed all in its path.

Old gods had been uncovered, and all their terrible rites now knew public practice. Most horrible of all, the Serpent saw the Scarlet King rising from the depths of the Abyss, rising to consume all of creation.

The Serpent saw this, and, frightened at how the All-Mighty could permit such a thing to exist, then acted of his own will. He wished to strike first, to cut down the shadow of the Daevas before it could spread too far, to cut off the reaching hands of the Scarlet King before they could spread their foul influence further.

The Serpent approached Hawwah, for she was wiser than her husband, and spoke to her of the dangers to the east, and of the greatest gifts of the Tree of Knowledge that might be used against the Daevas. But she refused the gifts, for she could see the cost that would come of it.

The Serpent spoke then to Qayin, warning him of the shadow in the east and revealing the secret knowledge to him, teaching him the most powerful magics and potent spells. He was to lead the march against the shadow in the east.

This knowledge proved to be too great a burden for Qayin to bear: in truth, it would be too great a burden for many of the gods. Qayin's mind frayed under the strain of his hidden knowledge, and he lost that which he had once possessed, the eyes of a child and an uncovered spirit.

He became withdrawn, eating little and sleeping less, and was filled with despair at the torment he now knew. His brother Hevel, at the urging of their mother Hawwah, spoke to him on this. An argument broke out over innocent words, rising in intensity until, in a fit of rage, Qayin struck down his brother Hevel with a stone.

Adam could not bear to see his second son killed. Qayin was banished from the valley, cursed, and left to wander in the desert.

Hevel's spirit returned to his body after five days, for in those days the perilous Ways between the lands of the living and the lands of the dead could still be walked by the heroes of men. But his return was not met with rejoicing; he remained distant from his family and friends, and was of dark demeanor.

The entire People, seeing that their future chief banished and their champion now trapped by despair, and hearing rumors to the east of the Daevas growing ever stronger and reaching ever further west, cried out in pain.

When the shadow of the Daevas could no longer be ignored, Hevel took up his sword, and went east. There he fought the Daevas for three and thirty years, until he was heard of no more.

Set too made actions of his own, building mighty bulwarks and defenses around the valley out of Metatron's copper servants, and raising from the People an army to defend their home.

Years passed, and news of a great army from the east emerged, a final army, sent out to conquer the entire west, and at its head was the Slayer, Ab-Leshal, fiercest of the Daevite generals, endowed with frightening strength and terrifying sorceries. Many of the People fled, scattering themselves to the wind and the mercy of the outside,

Qayin, hearing of the doom that was to come to the People, returned to his home, and was met there by the Slayer. Here, Qayin saw with horror that Ab-Leshal was in truth his brother Hevel, who in vanity had sworn himself to the dark gods of the Daevas and drunk deep of their black magics. Qayin once more took up a stone to slay his brother, and for this Ab-Leshal tore off his arms, first the right, and then the left.

Ab-Leshal then set upon the valley and the People with his legions and sorceries and war-beasts, and all the might of the Daevas was shown. The People were slaughtered, even the elder Adam and Hawwah.

Metatron, the Voice Who Spoke For God, was shattered, her body broken and looted. Yggdrasil, The Tree of Life stolen away, and the Tree of Knowledge set to flame. Satan the Serpent fled, first to the space-tower at Babel, and later on to the Library, where he remained in penance for his part in these things. The garden in the desert was reduced to ash, and those who were not killed were placed in chains, led back to the slave pits of the Daevas.

Set, forgotten by all, remained, protected by the last of his shattered defenses, and watched the ashes cool. He saw ahead the destruction of the world, and the victory of the Scarlet King, looming as if clouds on the horizon. And he was greatly afraid.

Set prayed for hope, and he was answered. He was shown the path the future would take. There was to be a Flood, until such a time when the Scarlet King might truly be destroyed. A period of safety within Yesod, where magic was hidden, and the King was trapped in his hellish realms. The war would be fought in secret, until such secrecy was no longer needed.

By the instructions set before him, Set gathered thirty-six men and women to him, and established of them an order, forever hidden. In absolute humility would they serve the world, passing their mantles from one generation to the next in secret, unknown even to themselves, until the end of all things. They would be the ones to set the world right.

The Thirty-Six scattered to distant nations, and there they waited, as doom came to Daevon in the east.

Ab-Leshal had returned in triumph, but it was not to last. That part of him which was Hevel, who had played in the shadow of the Trees, who had loved his brothers and protected the People, still lived in his blackened soul, and this drove him mad. He struck back against the Daevas whom had enslaved him, and with rage and fury cut down their idols, and slaughtered their priest-kings, and brought ruin to their city. The god Moloch, the Horned King Crowned in Shame, stood to face Hevel-Ab-Leshal, and he too was defeated, rendered a sickly shade of his own power. Elsewhere, the subjugated peoples of the world, who saw the end that was at hand, struck back at the Daevas, to sow the world with Daevite blood.

Hevel, son of Adam, who had cast down the gods of Daevon, raised his voice in challenge to the Scarlet King.

And the Scarlet King answered him.

Hevel, son of Adam, took up his sword, and the floodgates of the sky opened up with a Flood that would wipe time itself clean.

And in doing so, the God All-Mighty called upon the world, for the first time since the Word was spoken. He refined the world itself, then...

And the world was called upon to witness itself changing.

This is the history of mankind, fifth and final child-race of Earth, from the Finding of the Two Trees to the Flood.

I don't know what to say.

Except...

Scold me, praise me, insult me, flame me or anything. I will accept them gladly... (OR NOT!)

Thanks a million for reading, guys!

Mugen no Tenma, out.