typeapollo

[typeapollo]

Nihility's Edge Chapter 1

My first shot at a fanficesque type of writing, let's see how it works out

___

The rain poured constantly. There was an endless torrent of it pouring from the gray clouds overcasting the sky. He could feel the water permeate his very body and soul, soaking it completely. It left stains all over him, black marks, ones he could never erase. But he felt nothing from it. Neither the damp, the weight or the stains bothered him anymore. It didn’t mean anything.

As the rain fell, it would leave behind large puddles of water on the ground. The puddles themselves were strange, if one cared to look. They weren’t clear, and you couldn’t see their depths. They were as black as ink, almost reminiscent of the void itself. If you stared long enough into them, it would feel as if your soul was being dragged out and taken into their dark and murky depths. It was dangerous. Those puddles eventually drained out into the gutters of the streets, where it would take your soul into the abyss.

Besides the rain and himself, there was very little that moved on the planet. There was nothing that could. Everything was dead. The world itself had become gray and lifeless.  The sky itself was gray beyond the clouds, lit only by a black sun. The plants had all withered away and died. The trees were empty and broken, standing as wizened husks. An echo of what they once were. The same could be said for the grass, which was gray and bleak, almost in an unpalatable color. Stepping on them, the grass would fall apart like it was made of ash. Even the structures of the planet were lifeless. Buildings lay completely in ruins. They stood as broken husks of shattered concrete and rusted steel. Any wood was rotten and in shambles. world was dead, and he wandered around it endlessly, alone in the rain.

Well, not completely alone. There were always the ghosts, and there were plenty of them everywhere. Ghosts were the only word he knew to call them. These ghosts were beings made of shadow, without any form or substance. They were nothing more than echoes of the living. They spent their time living facsimiles of the lives they once had. They walked the streets that he did, interacted with the other ghosts, did things that those alive would do. But it was only ever temporary. They lived their short fleeting facsimiles and then they would fade away back into the darkness.

He was surrounded by these ghosts. They would come up to him every so often and try to speak to him and interact with him. But the words that they tried to voice were meaningless. There was no substance behind them, and he couldn’t understand what they were trying to say. When they touched him, their form broke apart and they recoiled back. After a while, the ghosts would give up and leave. He couldn’t fault them for leaving. He couldn’t understand them, and they couldn’t understand him.

He had tried to reach out to them initially. Ghosts or not, they existed in this world along with him. There had to be some way he could communicate with them. But it was hopeless. Their forms were barely held together, and their voices were meaningless and incoherent. No matter how hard he tried, he could never understand them. If he touched them, they would break apart. They were all so ephemeral. None of them would last.

He didn’t know when this situation all started. It grew harder and harder to remember with each passing day. It wasn’t always like this. This world was like any other. It had life and color in abundance. But slowly, everything had drained from it. It left nothing more than a broken husk of a world. A world devoid of meaning, much like his own self.

He has always struggled with the meaning of his own existence. The universe was so vast, that it was hard to imagine that any individual thing could hold any meaning. Every single little thing was so insignificant in comparison to the bigger picture. No matter what he would do, it would all be pointless. Nothing he could do would be able to change anything.

He had tried to fight against it. The encroaching darkness could be stopped. But in the end, the struggle was pointless. Nothing he did had any effect. The world lost its color, and he could do nothing to stop it. His actions, his words, his very own name meant absolutely nothing.

He had a name, once. He couldn’t remember what it was. He forgot it a long time ago. Or maybe it had only been a short while. He couldn’t recall. Every single day was the same as the other. He couldn’t even recall where he was. Time and space were both meaningless.

Besides, there was no one left to call his name. He was alone in the world. Surrounded by nothing but ashes and ghosts. And it would never end. Life, death, it was all meaningless. He couldn’t die, because what would be the point. It was all pointless. The universe meant nothing. The Nihility consumes all.

As he walked through the streets, he noticed a weight growing around his neck. At first, he ignored it, unbothered by the additional weight. But it grew heavier and heavier as time passed. It grew to the point where it could bother him. It was the only part of him that felt so weighed down, and he felt unbalanced. He decided to see what it was. He reached for his neck and found a necklace. He unclasped it, took it in hand and stared at it. It was curious. This one necklace was the only thing that held some margin of color left in this world. He could tell it was gold, if only slightly. It was muted, but it was still there.

He remembered that he used to own a necklace a long time ago. Or perhaps it was recent. The memories had blended together. But he also remembered that it had some measure of importance to him. He couldn’t remember why though. That answer was missing in his heart. And it didn’t matter regardless. Nothing did. It was heavy, and it was pointless to carry it around. Looking at it one last time out of some meager sense of curiosity, he dropped it into a puddle, and continued walking. The necklace disappeared into the depths of the water.

After walking for what seemed like an eternity, he found himself standing on top of a small, lonely hill with gray grass covering it. He looked around. He seemed to be in what looked like the remnants of an old park. Surrounding him were rotten trees and further beyond were the broken shells of buildings. He was alone now, not even ghosts were near him anymore. Closing his eyes, he realized that he had done enough walking. There was little point to it anymore.

Thinking it was as good of as any to rest, he laid down and looked up at the bleak gray sky. His eyes met that of the black sun. As he stared into it, he found the void staring back at him. The void didn’t speak to him, but he knew what it was saying. It was saying, it’s time to rest. Close your eyes and let the emptiness take hold. He knew that the void was right.

“There’s no point to any of this anymore. I’m tired of wandering. I’m tired of it all. There’s nothing for me in this broken husk of a world. Let’s go to sleep,” as he muttered his thoughts, he began to feel a wave of sleepiness. The void was embracing him, and he felt no desire to fight it.

As he closed his eyes, he felt the world around him turn to black, as both his consciousness and the world faded into nothingness.

___

The manager knocked on the solid blue doors. There was no response. He turned the knob and found that it moved. Taking that as a signal to enter, he opened the door. Inside the room, he found a singular figure, sitting in a blue, gold and white chair that faced outwards to a window. The chair hid their figure from view. The manager closed the door, and strode to the figure, stopping a respectable distance away. The manager then saluted the figure, placing his right hand above his chest.

“Report,” the figure in the chair said.

“We found the source of the anomaly. It was located on the planet Asphodel”, replied the manager.

“Asphodel. If I recall, didn’t the department recently invest a large sum of credits there? One of the others went personally, if I’m remembering that right.”

“Was? What happened to it?”

“The anomaly has disappeared entirely. Along with the planet itself. Asphodel is gone. With it our investments. There’s nothing there but bits of space rock. It’s as if it disappeared into nothingness.” The manager braced himself for the response, which didn’t come.

The figure in the chair sat silently as the contemplated the news.

“An entire planet disappeared, without warning. An event of that magnitude leaves traces. It doesn’t happen in a vacuum. No sign of Destruction indicating it was the Legion?”

“No traces of them. Whoever it was, it wasn’t the Legion. But there was something else, hidden amongst the debris. We stumbled upon it by chance, filtering through the random debris”

“What did you find in there?”

“There was this necklace. It’s strange. It shouldn’t have been out there in empty space. But the color. It’s gold, but it’s muted. Almost as if it’s been sapped of saturation.” The manager hesitated, before continuing.

“It also gives you a strange feeling…. Or rather a lack of one. Holding it, it made me feel empty, as if nothing I did would ever have a point.”

“That’s…. interesting. Pass that over to me.” The figure outstretched their hand to within view. The manager passed along the necklace to the hand, who grasped it and took it to within their view. A few seconds passed as the figure observed the necklace.

“This is unmistakable. It’s faint, but it has remnants of the Nihility on it,” the figure finally responded

“How can you tell sir?”

“A trace of the Nihility is something I would never mistake, not ever.” There was a sense of finality in their voice. The manager knew then that he spoke out of turn, and immediately silenced himself.

“Curious. The Nihility does not act on its own. It’s incapable of it. It views all of existence as meaningless, so there’s no chance it would ever act at all, much less cause an entire planet to disappear.”

The blue figure went silent once more as they contemplated the information they had at hand. Knowing that the information could only lead to one conclusion, they started speaking again.

“So, a self-annihilator then. This is going to be troublesome. It seems an emanator of Nihility was born on that world. We can consider that investment is now lost.” The figure sighed.

“An emanator…. Sir is there anything that we can do against something of that magnitude?” As the question left the manager’s mouth, the figure immediately began to respond.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with that. You may leave. Keep everything you’ve heard or seen today to yourself.” The manager knew better than to question their words again. He saluted and left the room, content that his role in the events was over.

But the real events of consequence were only just about to unfold. The figure, alone in the room once again, pondered about the road ahead.

“This new emanator will need to be tracked down before another investment is affected. We’ve lost one investment. We can contain the loss to that one alone. I’ll need to take a more proactive approach towards dealing with this situation.”

An emanator will leave traces of the path they travel on as they cross the universe, the figure thought. They made waves whether they wanted to or not, and it was impossible to hide them. Especially so for a newly born one, coming into their own strength. Tracking them down would take time, but sooner or later the ripples would make their way to them.

An emanator of nihility would be dangerous. In the worst-case scenario they would indiscriminately destroy one world after another and they wouldn’t even notice the destruction. They would lose themselves in their own apathy, unable to distinguish reality with their senses. Aventurine got lucky, they thought. He had fought one with a measure of control over their emptiness. That was rare, most self-annihilators lacked that level of control. An intact cornerstone wouldn’t be enough to deal with this new one, let alone the fractured one that Aventurine held at Penacony.

The sooner that they tracked this emanator down the better, the figure thought. The Nihility had a corrupting influence that must be stopped. They had sworn an oath to stop the Nihility and it would be upheld. Oaths were the only thing that mattered in the long run, especially his oath to Diamond.

“The Nihility will not encroach on more worlds. Not again. No more.” They paused.

“Only an emanator can deal with another emanator. Doubtless this will require Diamond’s personal attention in the end. But that doesn’t mean I can’t contain them.”

The figure stood up and walked to the window, coming into full view. It was a young blue haired male, dressed in blue, gold and white, much like the chair they were previously sitting on.  From the window, which was situated at the top of Pier Point, he stared out into the glittering cosmos. Around each of those stars were planets, many of which were within the Interastral Peace Corporation’s sphere of influence. Within sight was the subspace crystalline barrier, the great wall that the Preservation labored to build to preserve all of creation.

He then took out a large stone in their pocket and placed it in his hand. A large sapphire, twinkling as it reflected the starlight. He stared at the cornerstone for a few seconds, collecting themselves. Releasing a bit of the power within it, he sealed the remnants of the Nihility within the necklace. This would protect the rest of the universe from its influence forevermore. He then took that cornerstone in their right hand and placed it over their chest.

Sapphire then closed his eyes and began to pray.

“All… for the Amber Lord.”