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THE GREAT PROLOGUE

The Universe. In the terms of a mortal, it is the cosmic body with infinite measurements in which they reside. However, to the cosmic deities, the scale is much larger than that.

A great nothingness envelops everything called Ginnungagap, and from this everything, they dropped their essence. Basking in nothingness, the droplets were nothing more than thought. Pure, abstract, platonic thought. But, the thought of those above was different from the thought of those below. Their thoughts... contained power.

And so, these thoughts, these stories, were given meaning and identity. Identity is power, and power gave form to these thoughts. Soon, the thoughts developed into the Universes that we know today. Some formed by explosions, some seemingly appeared without any prior reason, some were even humorous in nature. The degree of Logic formed both unequally and equally, varying in each Universe. Nevertheless, they were all worlds, all universes. In the eyes of the ones above, they were all equally as real as they are, but the mortals who inhabited them thought of other Universes as "illogical".

Of course, the ones above meant for the mortals to understand, but they were unable to despite trying. To their eyes, the higher beings were nothing more than impossibilities that do not possibly exist.

The gods pondered. Who was the cause of such universal phenomena?

Nothing.

Nothing was the cause, the reason of everything. In the place where everything is order, Nothing was chaos. 

Chaos too, made its own limitless concepts. His spawns were called anomalies, things that logically did not make sense yet exists in the same universe as theirs. The spawns were destroying the Universe at a metric that cannot be properly described.

To solve this problem, the highers spawned them. The Guardians of Logic.

Michael, the Angel of War. Also known as God's Warrior, he kills the spawns of Chaos from the cosmos. He's the ultimatum, the sword on a conceptual horse known as war. He alone was not enough to cover the Multiverse, so Michael used mortals as servants. Eventually, The Church of War was born with Michael as the key-figure of it.

A great war sparked between the Church of War and the Spawns of Chaos. It was by no means a pretty sight. Blood was spilled, existences were sapped.

Better known as The Purging, it would be known for eternities to come.

Through this grueling war that spanned for an inexplicable amount of time, the Church of War was able to push the Spawns of Chaos outside the Multiverse.

At once, balanced returned. Except, not really.

It seems that Chaos greatly influenced the very nature of the stories themselves, and in extension, the mortals. Inexplainable events and creatures that plagued the world and terrorized its inhabitants. They too, were infected. It was the Plague of the Illogical.

War broke out between dimensions and it proved to be a greater hurdle than even the spawns of Chaos themselves. The Church of War could not deal with both the Spawns and virus at once, so a crisis arose once again.

To quell the frenzy, God created 3 other Envoys. Angels that judged the very narrative, the very soul of the infected.

Raphael, The Angel of Pestilence. Also known as God's Doctor, he cleansed the souls of those infected by the Anomaly and returns them to the cycle of the Multiverse.

Uriel, The Angel of Death. Also known as God's Executioner, he killed the souls of those too far gone, preventing their soul from going to the cycle which would taint it. He returns them back to Nothing.

Lastly, Gabriel, The Angel of Famine. Also known as God's Judge, he weighs the souls of the anomalies captured and judges if he meets either Raphael or Uriel. They are also in charge of capturing said anomalies.

Like Michael, they used the mortals to build Churches. Soon, 4 churches was established and kept order.

***

POV: The Writer

My name is... irrelevant. You don't have to know my name since it's inconsequential to the message I'm trying to covey.  Everything I will be writing and jotting in these measly papers, I've only recorded.

There might be some slight errors. There might be some things that you wouldn't understand. Hell, cheers to you if you do understand. One thing is for certain, I narrate his tale to you for a purpose, for he should NOT be forgotten- No, he CANNOT be forgotten.

This tale that I'll tell, nobody will believe. The things you will read, for certain, you will deem as mere fantasies of a 17-year old teen. Maybe I can save him... I probably can't.

... But, there no harm in trying, right?

***

Location: Ginnungagap

"FIRE!"

A gun was fired, and it hit someone in the chest.

"ACK!"

Murder. He breathed his last in a place where nothing exists.

"RELOADING!"

An attempt for more.

This is war. Violent, bloody, messy, murky. 

The churches were fighting this war for years, for centuries, eons, hell, even multiple eternities. 

But it never seems to end. When it did, they only fought amongst themselves.

This war you're witnessing, it is the First Great Cosmic Crusade.

Why are they fighting amongst themselves, when they should be uniting against a common enemy?

Nobody knew and nobody dared to. Even if they did, what could they do? They're just mortals in the presence of their masters.

Nobody did-

Except one.

***

5000 years later...

The weather is excellent. While running through the thick crowded streets, I carried the bag that was more important than perhaps the most valuable jewels. As I go, I see the faces of numerous people who I'll probably forget after 10 seconds, each carrying their own bags, and those said bags containing whatever it is important to them.

It might be the results of a pregnancy test, could've been a gun, maybe a pack of candies, perhaps bars of gold or cash in rubber bands, maybe it contained nothing at all. Nonetheless, they carry.

After all, you only willingly go through the hurdle of carrying the weight of the bag if it holds meaning. Nobody carries baggage that's either inconsequential to their life or irrelevant to their wishes.

For me, this bag is worth more than the world. It's worth more than this guy I just passed by, or this dog eating at the side of the road. It's more important than the police roaming in the streets, far more valuable than even that tall condo.

It is because this bag contained my world.

Finally, I arrived at my destination. I took a big inhale-

COUGH! COUGH!

Who knew that just smelling your own house could make you feel home?

Ah yes, home.

"WAAA!" 

This is my son, Nocht junior. Handsome, isn't he? I just changed his diapers. As I smelled the pungent odor of manure right from the front door, I knew right away I was home. Looks like his mother is asleep beside him, so why is this little booger awake?

She's a strong and beautiful woman, but trust me, even the strongest individuals are powerless before sleep deprivation. I understand this more than everybody.

To calm my son down, I just do a little something-

"Little Nocht junior!" I called, shaking his little rattle. "Do you wanna hear what Papa did at work today? You do, don't you?" 

"WAAA!"

"I know, I know. I know you little handsome!" Don't mind me acting cutesy. It's all part of the job. "Now, look at this-" I spoke as if excited, opening the same bag that I was carrying earlier. "Can you guess what it is? It's milk!"

Nothing calms him down more than milk. I'm sure every baby out there calms down at the same thing, but I would like to think that my son is special. I mean, look at him suckling on the bottle with his plump and puffy little cheeks. It's as if he's a squirrel gnawing down his nuts. That right there is something special indeed.

Work is tiring, but somehow taking care of a child is even more. I swear, Nocht junior wakes up at the weirdest of times. Sometimes he would wake up when I'm taking a huge shit and my wife is cooking, sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night without any prior notice, sometimes he would even wake up when...  I don't even know anymore.

I carried his little body as I watch the TV for the latest news, until even I fell asleep along the way. Even though asleep, I felt a warm embrace that inadvertently woke me. It was my wife, placing herself right beside me. The three of us cuddled, my wife was beside me and my son at the cradle of my arms.

This... is a pretty nice dream. A dream that should've been my life, and yet here I am surrounded by a group of people that I don't have an inkling of an idea as to who. My head is sacked, and I'm being drowned with water as I lie on the floor unable to move.

This is called waterboarding, a form of torture that's easy to perform yet very effective. Just lie the person flat, cover his face with a cloth, then pour water unto his face but not indefinitely. The person will experience death multiple times, although it's just a trick of the mind.

How many times have I felt death? Probably dozens, maybe a hundred, maybe higher. I didn't count them because it was irrelevant, and because I was counting something else.

I've been here with them for exactly 3 hours, 25 minutes, and 49 seconds.

"Yeah! Pour some more!" a voice cheered. It was followed by multiple others who cheered along with him. I couldn't see, but from the amount of talking, their subtle movements, cigarettes, and their slight stomps, there's about 15 of them surrounding me. Based on the lighting that I'm barely seeing through the wet cloth, I'm inside a dark building somewhere in the Capital. Either they turned the lights off or there's no electricity at all. Knowing these ruffians, it's probably the latter.

I'm likely in an abandoned building.

Then, the cheers were silenced. I sense another set of footsteps that was much heavier than the others. Finally, after what seems to be eternity, the cloth was removed from my face.

"Ready to talk now, detective?" This huge guy is named Zack. He's an Anthropodian. His voice is as coarse as his spiny body. Looks like he's having fun insulting me because of my uniform.

"I ain't got all day. Got a hot date, can't be late. If you don't start talking now, you'll be talking with the Father shortly." grunted he.

"Heh." I smirked before spitting at his face. "You're getting cocky now, huh? You're just a fucking coconut lobster-"

He didn't take that one lightly. With a sigh, he sat up and hit me with his claws for arms. I could've sworn he broke my jaw.

"Kill him." I heard him faintly through the ringing before I blacked out.

How I wish for this. This... darkness.

Here, I can't feel anything. No job, no suffering, no nothing. 

Although... it only usually lasts for a few seconds.

Because everytime I close my eyes, I dream again.

It's always the same cycle.

It shows me a beautiful scene before dipping my head right into the very depths of what could only be, hell.

Instead of a sunny day, instead of a busy street, instead of a lovely home, I woke up in the middle of a fiery street. The tall, towering buildings that littered and dominated the skies had been set afire, and everyone was running away aimlessly and in great distress. There were ships moving around everywhere, soldiers killing each other and civilians getting swept up by the crossfire.

I ran home as fast as I could. When I arrived, the house I loved so much was on fire.

They... couldn't have died alright?

They're alright.

Yes... Lilith is strong, and Nocht Junior is stronger than me.

They're alright.

CRACKLE!

The sound of crackling was everywhere. I was telling myself that it was just the burning wood, but my sense never lied to me. Not even once. That was the sound of bones popping.

I barged through the burnt door without any consideration with my own complexion whatsoever. I ran straight towards our room, the room where most of my lovely memories reside...

It was burning. They were burning. 

What do I do now? - I asked myself.

My bag... Yes, it's heavy. But I liked carrying it. The sensation of its weight on my shoulder made me feel something.

Regrettably... that wasn't the case anymore. This bag I'm carrying now doesn't feel the same as before. Light, but purposeless. Devoid of meaning.

I held them tightly around my arms, deliberately ignoring the fire that surrounded their bodies. The world could burn for all I care. All I want is to join them and sleep peacefully again, just like last time. That was my singular wish.

But I woke up. I wake up everytime.

"Ah, that's more like it." I stretched my body, exposing the large, cross-shaped scar on my face.

I'm cursed.

On the ground were Zack's men who attempted to dispose of me. They were weak. That coconut crab underestimated me a little too much. I reached for a pack of cigarettes in one of the men's pockets as well as a lighter. Casted a little sleeping spell on them called knock-u-out.

I want to rest.

It was a peaceful, beautiful night at the planet of King Phillip. Unlike most other planets, Gaia has a much more... let's say, busy electromagnetic field. That's why the skies here at night are so beautiful, littered with the aurora borealis and complimented by the dozens of moons in the sky, each might as well be stars.

But I can't.

I'm currently in one of the Universes of the Western Region, Gaia. My purpose here is to track Zack, the leader of a group of Anthropodians called Invertebraekers. The name of their group is so bad. In fact, it is so bad that I had to reread the contract presented to me 5 times over. It was that bad. As to why I'm tracking him, I do these kinds of odd jobs for a living.

Nothing can make me.

Finding your lost dad in that universe, finding your long lost sister in this planet, finding this wanted criminal, solving this unsolved case that threatens a certain universe, I do a lot of findings and solvings around the Multiverse, in hopes of one day finding the answer to a personal question of mine along the way. 

Because I'm cursed like that.

"You tricked me." I talked while lightning my cigarette. It's best to get distracted at times like this.

"I did." A pair of glowing eyes appeared in the shadows. That sassy voice never fails to get in my nerves everytime. "Having fun every once in a while wouldn't hurt."

"Well, it was pretty fucking painful on my part."

"Oh look! Nocht Noche is being a little pussy!"

"Should I make you experience how horrible waterboarding is? You're gonna be a much bigger pussy after I inflate you with water."

"Oh please. You've been through worse."

Yeah, I've been through worse. Experiencing death many times over wasn't really anything impressive. Burning for 10 months straight in the Premature Universe Vulcan, freezing in a Universe that died of heat death, not sleeping for the same amount of months when I lodged with this pathetic house cat would be much worse. There are far more things terrible than just death.

She continued her blabber and I refused to listen. Smoking felt so much better than the constant babbles of an eccentric woman.

Her name is Latina, a Felinia. I wanted to snap her legs right then and there, but I knew that even if I tried my very best, I won't catch her.

"Come on, don't ignore a pretty girl like this." Latina assumes a seductive pose. Her ears, which were akin to a cat's, pricked forwards. If you convert her beauty to numbers, the digits would probably align with her IQ, which is below average.

"Just, tell me that you found where his little nest is."

"Why don't you just interrogate them." she glances towards the men lying unconsciously on the ground.

"Zack is a meticulous guy. He won't show up unless he has to, or feels the need to. Those guys probably saw him for the first time and knows nothing about him... Wait, don't fucking tell me you didn't-"

"I-I did! Calm down. Geez. Remember that hot date he was talking about? That's me!" she spoke proudly. At least she uses her self-proclaimed beauty for something meaningful.

I threw the cigarette bud on the ground to step on it. It might not seem like a burnt out bud won't start a fire, but it can.

"I'll ignore the fact that you were watching me getting tortured for 3 hours and a half. Let's catch my dinner."

You might ask me what that personal question from earlier is.

Pretty simple, really.

Who was the motherfucker that killed my family, and how do I make him suffer the slowest, most painful death?

Dictionary

Narratives - Universes. Each narrative is infinite in space and has infinite timelines.

Anthropodian - A race of mortals that's composed of Arthropods. Zack is an Anthropodian belonging to the race of crabs, most specifically, he is a coconut crab.

Primaria - A race of mortals that's composed of Primates. Nocht is a Primaria belonging to the race of Sapiens, most specifically, he is a modern human.

Felinia - A race of mortals composed of Felines. Lilith is actually a succubus felinia hybrid. She has cat ears and a devil's tail. However, she doesn't have wings like a succubus would, for they only sprout on Pure-blooded Demons.

Eternity - An infinite amount of time, for mortals that is.