Alma 107 Metamorphosis

Originally, the ancient tongue had been one of a certain race's greatest achievements, one that united the whole cosmos together in rapturous celebration. A race that once ruled their multiverse and gone beyond their limits in pursuit of Peace, Love, Justice, and Liberty.

They had found the beating heart of their universe, the Source of all Things. In simpler terms, they had found… God — the creator of their reality.

It was to be their defining moment, the culmination of all that they had labored and struggled for in the name of peace.

Born in a universe rife with trials and tribulations, they had overcome the impossible odds pitted against them with the grace of their beloved God.

An everlasting era of peace and prosperity reigned across the stars under their careful guidance. With their transcendent knowledge and wisdom, they set out to destroy life's burdens — Sickness, Poverty, Hatred and even Death.

They had delivered Salvation to a weary multiverse with their own hands — one planet at a time until their work was done.

With their mastery concerning the matter of the soul and their profound understanding of the underlying mechanics that governed the world, they created a solution to solve all future conflict — The Elder Speech.

A language formed from the union between the Soul of Man and the World. Henceforth, people would converse with one another on a level deeper than ever before.

No longer could people be misunderstood or lie to each other — all was laid bare before those who heard and spoke the Elder Speech. It was designed at heart to facilitate understanding between individuals and the world.

The Elder Speech connected the hearts of all beings, granting them an unfiltered, undistorted view of everything. They were free.

Having done all they could for their home, they set out for greater heights. They wished to meet their creator and seek pursuits beyond the confines of their multiverse. It was known to them that other creations, other worlds existed with the Vast Outside. Worlds that they could help, and uplift with their power. A new purpose for them.

So they decided that they would meet with their creator and ask for its help, as they could not bridge the gap between multiverses in the Vast Outside. It was a lawless, chaotic plane of emptiness that threatened anything imbued with the concepts of Order and Law.

They, who had followed the path of the virtuous, gathered the brightest minds across their multiverse for this venture to meet the Creator.

Assembled, the wisest sages, scholars, and thinkers of the multiverse eventually, after an eon of research, succeeded.

They entered the Domain of God, the White Shore, at the end of eternity.

And there, at the atelier of their creator, they found...

A blackened sycamore tree and a single figure hanging from it. Nothing more.

The revelation was too much to bear for them. Even worse, the truth had spread across the multiverse in an instant because of the connection due to the Elder Speech. It could not be hidden, nor denied.

Hundreds of trillions of living beings simultaneously experienced the event at the same time across the multiverse.

Then, a single phrase was uttered by an unknown soul and it soon took hold in the hearts of the people.

That phrase was...

"Hope is the cruel harbinger of Despair."

It was the embodiment of their collective suffering and it very quickly infected their hearts and minds. Changed them. And then, it gave them a new purpose...

The Infested Pupa, in the middle of its life cycle, had finally grasped the meaning of the phrase it had been taught by its masters. Only those who had come to understand the truth would be allowed to reach their full potential and now… the time had come for it to follow in its masters' footsteps.

A deafening howl of grief silenced all on the battlefield and froze them in place. It commanded obedience and demanded it from Infested and Men alike. The distinction no longer mattered to it anymore.

The Infested shivered in terror when they heard the howl and then, in a stunning act that shocked everyone, stopped fighting. They no longer bothered with the enemy and marched toward the edge of the abyssal chasm in silence.

Millions of Infested gathered at the edge of the deep, pitch-black chasm and then... bowed their heads.

It left everyone speechless — never had they seen the Infested demonstrate such refined behavior before. They had always been little more than mindless abominations with an ending thirst for violence.

Velvund felt his heartbeat erratically for the first time in nearly a millennium as he observed the almost lifelike display of emotion on the Infested horde's faces.

What in the Goddess's name is happening? What form of devilry is this?

A sudden wave of Anima exploded out from the chasm and struck the continent itself. It was so powerful that it could be felt across the Four Empires.

The ground at the epicenter — the battlefield — started to shatter like fragile glass. It was borderline apocalyptic; the continent itself was beginning to fall apart as the chasm continued to grow in size.

As soon as it happened, every conqueror moved into action and began to retreat. The fight was over. They opened spatial tears and tossed their contender subordinates into them, fleeing from the collapsing continental plate.

It had all been for naught. The same stranded ships that they had tried to rescue fell into the growing chasm and quietly disappeared into the darkness below. They were gone.

Only those who had been fortunate enough to have escaped into the void escaped the destruction of the south-western coast.

The fleet-masters knew not what to do in this situation. How could they? Never before had they seen such a thing happen in all their years fighting the Infestation. This was not something that they had been taught to handle.

There were no protocols or stratagems to follow for this situation. The fleets hovered above the immense chasm and simply waited… for something to happen.

Are they dead? Where did they go? What the hell was that explosion?

These and a dozen other important questions pestered Haydn and the other fleet-masters. What had happened defied reasoning, but it did not mean that they could flee right now. They had to make sure that the Infestation was gone — only then could they leave.

It would be highly irresponsible to retreat now, as much as they wanted to. Whatever had happened down there was their responsibility.

Haydn grimaced and said, "All ships are to hold their ground for the time being. We will not be leaving until we verify tha—"

"Your Majesty, there's an unknown transmission hailing us… from below! It's from the Azure Summer, one of our cruisers!"

"Patch it through immediately!" said Haydn.

When the audio channel opened up, a cacophony of terrified screams filled the bridge of the Silver Winter, but something was different.

They were saying something, beneath their distorted screeches of pain and terror. The surviving crewmen of the Azure Summer had seen what had been reborn in the depths of the chasm.

"RUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRRU—"

And then, it happened.

From the depths arose the being that had finally reached the end of its life cycle and had become a fully-fledged adult. It was no longer a mere Infested but a true Avatar of the Outsiders.

If the Outsiders were kings who ruled at the top of the Infested hierarchy, then the newly born Infested Adult was a prince. It was now second in command only below its masters in power and authority within the Grand Swarm.

Two massive wings of flesh, bone, and Anima stretched out of the abyss, blotting out the sky itself. They were so large that it would take a dozen fleets to fill up the space of a single wing.

A large shadow had been cast upon the North for hundreds of kilometers.

With a single flap, they knocked the fleets and everything around them away, like the ants that they were. They carried or rather, brutally tossed away by the immense Anima wave that it had created.

It had not been an attack; It had just stretched its wings for the first time. There was no need it to attack, anyways.

Attacking implied that it was facing a foe strong enough to warrant its attention. That was the distinction it had made. There would be no fight to be had. They were no foes to it. The situation had already progressed well beyond that.

A horrifying, yet beautiful creature emerged from the abyss as it shed its former shell made of gore and bone. With a mighty flap of its wings, it removed all of the filth that had once been its cocoon and flew out into the sky.

It was pure and sacred. Even beautiful to the eye. Like an angel that had descended from Heaven to meet the masses. How could something so majestic and elegant be a part of the Infestation?

No one knew.

The only thing they knew was it would likely be… their end.

Chapter end