The silence that followed was profound.

The man let it stretch, watching Finn process the revelation before continuing in a quieter, reverent tone:

"This… Faith, was something far more powerful than mana could ever be."

He began pacing with animated movements as he recounted the tale.

"The Transcendents entered into the original world of my race with their usual arrogance. And at first, they seemed justified in it. They were powerful enough to kill a few Gods — the weaker ones, or those on similar levels of power to themselves. Gods that bore control over similar concepts as they did."

The man grinned.

"But it was still difficult for them. Harder than anything they'd faced before. Some Transcendents even died in those early battles — truly died. Their souls were harvested forever by the very Gods they fought," his voice became thicker with fervor with each passing moment.

"They had thought they'd simply stumbled into a very powerful world. One that would prove more challenging than the others they'd conquered. In fact, one might even think they enjoyed it at first…"

He paused, then stared directly at Finn.

"Imagine it, boy. Beings who had grown so bored with their own omnipotence that the thrill of the possibility of death made them feel alive — more alive than the easy worlds they'd previously conquered.

They didn't retreat. They pressed forward, driven by an ambition that bordered on madness. They wanted to see if they could kill the Gods of my race's world."

The man's voice suddenly became cold and he stilled.

"But then their ruckus finally drew the gaze of a Great One..."

With a whisper in a tone of reverence, like he was reciting words of a sacred scripture passed down from his ancestors, he said:

"When the Evil Stars brought ruin to the Sacred Lands.

The Great One rose from Their eternal seat.

Three times They swung Their divine arm.

And with each swing, twenty-one evil stars were reaped.

Harvested like wheat.

Souls damned not to death's mercy.

But to eternal torment in Hell's domain."

The man held up a finger.

"With the first swing, twenty-one Transcendents were erased. Their concepts and Abstract Magic shattered like glass. Their souls were harvested instantly, pulled into the cycle of the Great One's influence and damned to an afterlife of eternal torment in the Great One's domain."

The man held up a second finger.

"With the second swing, another twenty-one fell. And this time, the Transcendents of concepts like Plague and Ruin tried to rot the Great One's flesh. But the Great One simply denied their authority, and the concepts turned inward, consuming the wielders in seconds."

He held up a third finger.

"And with the third swing… for the first time in ages, the Transcendents finally felt something they had forgotten..."

The man's pale gray eyes locked onto Finn's.

"Fear."

"Utter and helpless fear. They were filled with absolute certainty that no matter what they did, nothing would touch the Great One. That no matter how they bent the concepts they controlled. No matter how creative or powerful they were with their magic. No matter if they tried to fight or tried to escape… at every swing of the Great One's hand, all of their powers would be rendered useless."

Finn listened raptly, trying to envision the level of power the man spoke of.

"Every thought of attack vanished entirely from their minds," the man said. "All that remained was the singular imperative to get out. To escape. To run before that hand fell upon them too."

In the man's eyes, something akin to worship and reverence flickered… along with a tinge of something that Finn noted and kept at the back of his mind…

Ambition.

"—Of the more than hundred Transcendents that entered my ancestors' world..." the man paused, letting the weight of the number sink in, "less than thirty escaped. The rest, killed in the blink of an eye."

"The survivors sealed the tear behind themselves immediately, closing the door between both worlds forever — At least they could still do that much. But the scars from that beatdown stayed with them forever."

The man leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees.

"For the first time in a very long time, they realized that there was something above them. Something much, much more terrifying than they were. They realized they weren't as absolute as they'd always thought..."

A long pause followed.

"But it is from that same feeling of defeat that among a few of them, a greed for even more power became urgent."

Finn frowned. "They didn't stop?"

The man shook his head with something like bitter amusement.

"The defeat didn't humble them. It obsessed them. They realized that their Mana, and their Abstract Magic had a limit. But Faith…? Faith seemed limitless. They saw how a single Great One, powered by the belief of millions, could crush waves of Transcendents as if they were mere nuisance..."

"So instead of stopping, they redoubled their efforts. The Transcendents extensively studied my race — they extensively studied my direct ancestors, who had been brought into this world as slaves and pleasure items during the period of their battles…"

His expression darkened.

"It was a puzzling thing to them... Faith. They tried to understand it through my ancestors. They dissected our culture, our prayers, our rituals. They observed how we worshipped, how we channeled our devotion."

"But no matter what they did, nothing seemed to be forthcoming. They couldn't replicate it. They couldn't force it. They couldn't manufacture it."

The man closed his eyes as if he could picture the pain his ancestors went through, subconsciously clenching his fist as he did.

"So they ventured out yet again into other exotic planes. But this time they were more subdued. More cautious. They scoured world upon world, searching for others with this power called Faith. They wanted to understand the mechanic. They wanted to engineer their own apotheosis…"

He opened his eyes and looked at Finn.

"But no matter where they looked, they kept coming up blank. Faith-based power systems simply didn't exist in any other plane they could find. Or if they did, the beings wielding it were nowhere near the level of the Gods from my ancestors' world."

He paused.

"That was until one of the Transcendents looked at it from a different angle entirely..."

"...But unfortunately, what that angle is remains a mystery…" he sighed.

"All I know from the words passed down from my ancestors is that there was a turning point where all Transcendents suddenly began to disperse their souls into smaller and smaller fragments, latching onto Ossuarist talents all over the world…"

"Besides that, nothing else is known of the Transcendents' reasoning," he shook his head ruefully. "We just know that after that, they also began to build temples. Empty temples, more like tombs, or mausoleums, posing as if they were Gods themselves."

"Maybe they finally found a way to manufacture faith?" Finn asked the obvious.

"No. They did not." The man said matter-of-factly.

"I would know if they did. I am a bearer of a fragment afterall. Within me is the fragment of space," he raised his hand, distorting the space above it like shattered glass before dispersing it just as quickly as he had displayed.

"It is this same fragment that allowed me to know of your coming," he said.

"You wouldn't believe it. But the Transcendent of Space had somehow also comprehended some aspects of time."

Seems the original owner of the Path of Space was an Einstein… Finn mused.

"—It is what allowed me… and every other space fragment holder on this cursed island, to know of the coming of the one who would change the epoch…" he said with meaning, looking intently at Finn.

"...The one who would cause a change so great, the brief glance all space fragment holders had seen into the future became a tangled mess. The Pioneer… You."

Finn stared at the man without blinking.

"Me?" he said. But internally, his mind roiled as he drew many correlations from all that the man had said, comparing it to his own life, his identity as someone from earth. As someone who had specifically studied about demons and gods. As someone who, even in this world, bore the hidden title of: The Errant Heretic.

Was this the Heretic aspect of his title being revealed to him?

He thought of his inexplicable ability to steal aspects of mythological figures. Gods and mythical creatures from lore on earth.

It was basically an act of profanity, reaching his hands into the sacred image of divine beings and stealing parts of what made them divine…

Was that not heresy? Was he not an heretic?

So therefore, was this why he was chosen by whatever mechanism had brought him into this world? Was he the one destined to break the status quo and find a way to the divine?

…But what if he's lying.

Finn couldn't help but harbor doubt about the man.

All this talk. This grand history lesson that the man had revealed to him...

In the first place, Finn did not expect everything to be true. But deciding just how much of it were lies was what he struggled with.

This was a man that he'd just met not even up to an hour ago. Even more, Finn had just woken up for less than thirty minutes, and yet he was already being told the Grand history of the world, and being told of his predestined purpose.

It all screamed uncanny to him, making him question the motive of the man as he stared at him.

What does he want out of this? Even if all of it is true, there's no way he's telling me this just for the sake of it…

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A/N: I apologize for the late chapter. It will also be a single chapter today, but I made sure it was at least slightly longer. Something impromptu came up irl and it took much of my time.

I will make up for it with three chapters tomorrow.

P.S: Don't forget to drop Power Stones and Golden Tickets. It helps a lot.

Cheers

Astrl

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