The world did not die by a sword.It died by an idea.
Smoke rose to the sky as if hell itself had found a path to the earth. They were not craters—they were open wounds: burning mouths where the rock exposed its incandescent core. Fire devoured what had once been forest, city, and road, as if it wanted to erase every memory of life.
It all began with an argument no god should ever have had: accept destiny, or break it by force?What started as words turned into war, and war into the end of a world that had breathed in peace for millennia.
The oceans changed course; the tides halted as if the sea itself were listening. The poles fractured, releasing ancient vapors. The air grew heavy, almost solid. Balance—that silent force that keeps life alive—snapped like a dry branch.
Where the southwest of the continent once stood, the most prosperous land of the Empire, there now remained only a burning cemetery, a blazing memory of what humans once called hope.
And at the center of that hell, two figures remained standing.They were not heroes. They were not saviors.They were the consequence of their own conviction.
One represented forgiveness: faith that an accepted destiny can heal.The other, control: the belief that nothing is written and everything can be broken—even reality itself.
They were called gods.But that day, they were only men incapable of abandoning their principles.
Their bodies were exhausted mass, shaped by blows as if every idea had left a deep mark. The blood covering them was not only from wounds—it was the price of turning convictions into reality.
Face to face, acceptance spoke with what little air remained in his lungs:—What you're doing is destroying everything we built together.
Control smiled, almost in pain.—And what do you propose? Surrendering to destiny? You have the power to break your future, yet you choose to obey it. That's pathetic.
Acceptance closed his eyes for just an instant. He understood now: words were useless.—If you won't listen, there is no dialogue. Only facts.
A pale vapor began to surround him, moving like a breath that refused to die. Behind his back, the smoke compressed and formed four spectral arms, long as shadows that insist on remaining.
Control answered without fear. A dark gas rose from his skin, expanded, and spun until it formed spears, each vibrating with an unnatural green color—life twisted upon itself.
—It took you days to understand something so simple —he said calmly. It wasn't mockery. It was rage disguised as certainty.
The clash was immediate, without words.Acceptance dodged the spears as one brushes aside a чуж idea that does not deserve to stay; every movement was a gentle denial, a silent proof that not everything is faced with force.
He spun and struck Control in the stomach, as if reminding him where his rage came from. The impact released a shockwave that extinguished the surrounding fire, leaving a circle of bare earth.Control crossed his arms and endured, his feet sinking into the rock.
The spears returned like a green swarm, trying to pierce the other's resolve. Acceptance leapt, caught one midair, and hurled it back—reducing it to a simple projectile.
When it struck Control, the solid form did not shatter.It melted.
A liquid wave grew, multiplying in mass until it became a mineral tsunami.
Acceptance raised his hand. The Zau around him compressed until it burned into an incandescent sphere. He threw it without hesitation. Fire devoured the wave and exploded with a roar that shook the earth.
From the dust emerged Control, blood running down his forehead. He was smiling with hatred.—Is that what you thought? Kill me with such a cheap trick? How pathetic.
The dark Zau around him compressed until it bent space itself. A black point appeared floating in his palm, swallowing everything.—I will leave this place. I will break the structure of the cosmos. I will take your Ketsuwille and make it mine.
Acceptance frowned. The Zau compressed in his throat, warping it into something inhuman. He released a sharp, invisible sound that tore through the air and shattered the black hole.Control fell to his knees; blood poured from his ears.
Acceptance did not hesitate. The gas gathered behind him and hurled him forward like a brutal impulse. His palm open, the Zau spiraling.—Seal of the Thousand F—
He didn't finish.
A blow to the head sent him flying, opening craters and shattering mountains in a chain.
Control tried to continue attacking, but something stopped him:on his chest, a series of incomplete marks vibrated like dying embers.He ignored them. He could not accept that they mattered.
He chased his enemy as the gas slowly healed the damage in his ears.
Landing in front of the mountain, he wrapped his arm in Zau, trying to materialize a diamond pillar to crush him.
But nothing happened.
The gas spun, stirred… and took no form.It was impossible.
Acceptance laughed weakly, still embedded in the rock.—What's wrong? Can't use it anymore? —he whispered, coughing.
—What did you do…? —Control spat, rage and burning hatred in his voice.
—What I had to —he replied, standing. The gas wrapped around him like a living cloak—. I sealed what you stole. Everything you made your own.
Control's eyes widened in horror.—You're… damned… idiot! You could've killed me! And you seal me instead?
Acceptance descended the mountain.Tired. Broken.But firm.
—You're at a disadvantage. I've already won —he said without pride—. Let's end this. Let's go home. There's too much to repair.
Control closed his eyes. His voice softened.—Alright…
Acceptance smiled. For the first time in days.—I'm glad you understand. Today… we return together.
He turned his back, walking toward what remained of the kingdom.
Then it happened.
Control gathered all his Zau into his open hand and his feet. The ground exploded beneath him.In a single step, he was behind him.
A perfect betrayal.
Acceptance reacted in time to avoid death, but the blow pierced him.The gas dispersed.Blood fell onto the boiling earth.
—What… are you doing? —he managed to say, incredulous.
Blood poured like rivers as he tried to heal with the gas, but Maxshiza, knowing he was vulnerable, showed no mercy and finished him by piercing his chest, right where life emanates.
—You should've killed me when you had the chance. Look at you now —he said mockingly—. Your mercy was your first death. Now… your Ketsuwille is mine—
Acceptance only laughed weakly.
—You can't take… the will… of someone… who no longer lives… —he replied, coughing blood—. Your destiny… is already sealed… You won't die by me… or someone like me… you'll die by a boy weaker than you… but a thousand times better than you…
He prophesied… before dying.
Silence fell upon the world.The seas stopped roaring.The burning air froze, as if the planet itself were holding its breath.
And in that instant, the battle was over.
Control, for the first time, understood peace in the other's death:he could not obtain the will of an empty shell.
His mind filled with rage, and in that frenzy, he created claws of gas and tore apart Acceptance's body, disrespecting him even after death.
Control fell to his knees before the shattered corpse.The gas still burned around his body, but now it was no longer power—it was instinct, like an animal whose heart has been ripped out yet still breathes out of habit.
His mind refused what his eyes saw.
He could not lose.He was not made to disappear.
Acceptance's blood fell in thick drops onto already-dead ground. Control plunged his fingers into it, as if trying to hold onto something that might still save him.
He trembled.Not from pain.From a broken idea.
—No… I won't end here —he murmured, but his voice sounded as if he were speaking to his own brain, not the world.
Blood coated his arm up to the elbow.The Zau on his skin began to vibrate, like gas trapped in crystal.
That was the first act.
Denial.
Then came the second.
Payment.
His Zau collapsed inward and tore years from his life as if they were wet paper. White smoke escaped his mouth—not vapor, but time leaving his flesh.
His back arched, his spine cracked.His skin became old and young at once.His eyes wept blood, not water.
The world understood what he was doing.
The air grew heavy.Shadows moved backward, as if time itself were marching in reverse to watch.
—Conditional seal… Zau condition… —he spat each word, slicing his tongue from within—. This will keep me from perishing for thousands of years. It will break when a boy with a will similar to the blood on my body appears…
The world listened.
And decided the price.
Foreign blood.Existences.Lives.
The marks beneath his feet ignited in red.It wasn't light—it was pain turned into symbol.
Control opened his arms like a broken cross.His veins bulged; Zau poured from them like hissing black smoke.
—I will offer as many lives as necessary… —he screamed, tearing his throat—. As many… existences… as needed… as payment for my existence.
The circles multiplied.One for every life that someone else would never live.
The ritual was not a chant.It was a silent massacre.
Of a city no one would ever see.Of faces that would never exist.Of futures that would never be born.
The price was accepted.
120,600 lives.Not names.Lives—whole, ripped away, devoured.
The earth split open.Ancient fire rose like the breath of a burned god.
Chains of dark light burst from the ground and bound his body.They did not drag him down.They preserved him.
Like a weapon that must not break.
His flesh burned, but did not die.Because dying would mean losing.
Control smiled—or tried to.His lips were no longer his own.
—I will not accept… —he said, or thought he said—. I will not accept…
The chains pulled him into the rift.His Zau screamed in silence.
The seal closed.The world breathed.
And thus Control ceased to be human.
He did not die.Nor did he live.
Only the idea that destroyed him remained.