Footsteps. Heavy, very heavy. So heavy they left deep cracks in the hard stone of the steps.
He was Zephyr, divine Principle of Breath. Symbol of calm and peace in the world, but at that very moment, calm and peace were nothing more than leaves rustling in the wind.
With lime-green hair, dark green eyes, and a youthful appearance, there were no words to describe him other than "holy" or "beautiful."
"Mistaker..." he said, looking directly into the eyes of the Primordial of Errors.
Mistaker returned his gaze with a broad smile, as if the young man before him were his lifelong friend.
"Zephyr, where is your older brother?"
That young man gritted his teeth, and using his sovereignty over the wind in the room he cut the cheek of the Error Behind The Reality. Apparently, Zephyr's gaze toward Mistaker wasn't like the others; it didn't bring fear, but one of Mistaker's most hated emotions: anger.
"You dare to sully my brother's name with your filthy mouth?! Damn you, Mistaker! I know what you did to Abyssal Empress, and for that, I will never forgive you!"
Oh... how annoying you are, holy Zephyr.
Mistaker touched his bleeding cheek and smiled, barely a few centimeters away.
He seems angry. I hope he keeps making me bleed so I can start the bleeding.
"Are you talking about your girlfriend?"
Zephyr made his hands into fists, clenching them so tightly that his knuckles turned white, like clouds or snow.
"Don't play the saint, Mistaker. You know very, very well what you did to my beloved... first, you forced her to sleep with half of Cosmology, breaking my heart... and then you sent her to be abused by Aeolus, my own blood, my dearest sister!"
"Oh, yes... I think I did that, or didn't I? I don't remember well. Can you remind me?"
In an instant, Zephyr disappeared, taking all the air in the room with him, making the place even more suffocating and oppressive. After a long second, the Saint of Breath appeared before the Original Error.
Zephyr, using the momentum created by the wind, tried to land a direct blow on Mistaker's jaw, but those cheap tricks didn't work on that entity.
Mistaker simply jumped, and while he was doing a pirouette in the air, he snapped his fingers and thought:
Should I keep tasting it to activate bleeding? Or do I create an illusion? I can also dismember him with my threads... although that would break the promise I made to Hermes.
A chilling shriek emanated from somewhere within the sanctuary of the fallen, while the walls melted like burnt wood to the core. An intense, powerful light blinded Zephyr, and when he opened his eyes again, he realized it was raining.
Those two divine beings stood at the sanctuary's summit, a place made of pure grayish stone, an imperfect, gray, and indestructible terrain.
"Where are we?!" Zephyr spat out, stumbling backward as he felt the raindrops touch his smooth skin. "Disgusting! Disgusting! I hate it with all my being!"
Mistaker looked up and smiled slightly.
"I brought you to the summit of my sanctuary... and look how fate is, so cruel to you, it starts to rain just as you try to kill your little girlfriend's slave driver."
Mistaker chuckled a little, watching Zephyr's face contort in disgust at the feeling of the water on the ground. Moreover, in about two seconds, he conjured an umbrella to avoid getting his elegant tuxedo wet.
"And the funniest thing is that your sister calls herself 'Destiny,' and apparently fate is never on your side... does your sister really hate you that much?"
Zephyr forgot about the rain and confronted Mistaker, his voice cracking: "Shut up, scum! And don't you dare change the subject! You're the reason my girlfriend was raped!"
"Not exactly... I think she lied to you. The truth is, she slept with the gods, Principles, and Primordials for materials to rank up... Yes, I used her for my own benefit, but she's partly to blame."
"Lies!"
The air grew heavy with tension.
"You think I don't know you're a liar? Now you think I'll believe you?!" Although Zephyr's tone was harsh, Mistaker didn't forget the slight crack in his voice.
"Don't you know what they call your girlfriend? 'The Divine Fox'... besides, from what I know, she lied to you for years, hiding the fact that she was 'forced,' or as you say, raped by many deities... that must hurt you a lot, right?"
Zephyr swallowed hard, attacked by Mistaker and the disgusting rain.
"You're a coward, you can't even protect the one you swore eternal love to. I know it hurts, I know it hurts a lot, but do you know something that will hurt you even more?... that every night I go to bed and give pleasure to your dearest older sister."
Zephyr let out a desperate scream, filled with self-loathing and hatred for the world, and with the wind—which he molded in seconds until it became a knife—he sliced Mistaker's tuxedo.
Mistaker slowly took a few steps back, clutching the thin, torn fabric of his garment.
"Hermes... I swear... I'll try with all my willpower."
After saying this to no one in particular, Mistaker turned to Zephyr and the umbrella vanished, a small smile playing on his lips, but his eyes were cold, sharp, and fixed on Zephyr.
Zephyr returned a disquieted smile as he jumped back.
"Are you crazy, or why are you talking to yourself?"
There was no response. Not figuratively or ironically, nothing. Mistaker's presence was nonexistent; there was no trace of him, not even a footprint to show he had been standing there.
Zephyr spun around and raised his fists to block the blow, bracing himself for pain or broken bones.
But there was nothing behind him...
Zephyr pivoted forward again, assuming the same defensive stance, but there was nothing in front of him...
Nothing was anywhere, only rain and a silence heavier than Osmium.
Suddenly, a clock ticking, seemingly from some illusory place before Zephyr's eyes, began its dreadful song.
Tick... Tock...
Tick... Tock...
Tick... Tock...
Zephyr backed away, nearly falling, his eyes darting around in terror.
He looked to the right, nothing... Left, nothing... Up... you guessed it, dear readers, nothing.
Raindrops, turning the stone floor crystalline, like a new mirror, a mirror into which Zephyr dared to gaze, but again, nothing. He could only see himself, his face contorted with emotions like disgust, anger, and fear.
Zephyr fell to his knees and could do nothing but vomit everything stored in his stomach. Before him in the sky, floating lightly, was an hourglass that seemed both weak and powerful.
Between the uncertainty, the disgust with the rain, the ticking clock, the search for Mistaker, and the hourglass's countdown, the Saint of Wind was already collapsing.
"Please, stop! I only wanted to fight you, to make you suffer. Don't do this to me, or I-I'll tell my brothers, and together they'll beat you to a pulp! Do you hear me, Primordial of Mistakes?!"
Again, nothing. Not a reaction, not a doubt, only a torture that seemed endless.
Little by little, the hourglass emptied more and more and more, a fact that drove Zephyr even more insane.
The Principle of Breath remained on his knees, staring at the hourglass with lifeless eyes, his throat raw and his head pounding.
After three seconds, the hourglass had emptied.
Zephyr slapped himself and quickly began to run. He knew that if he didn't react, he could die. He understood that even though Mistaker was Destiny's boyfriend, Mistaker could easily kill him.
Zephyr ran and ran, but everything was quiet, without the ticking of the hourglass.
The Saint of Breath looked behind him and to his sides, even glancing above him, just in case.
"Phew... looks like I've escaped that monster."
Knock... Knock...
Zephyr's heart nearly stopped, and almost instinctively, he checked his rear, creating a sword or something similar from the wind.
The situation was apparently becoming very dangerous for Zephyr's physical and mental health. In Zephyr's chaotic mind, several methods of defense were considered: a hurricane, a cyclone, or a tornado. However, these options were risky, since Mistaker could simply negate them.
Knock... Knock...
Zephyr noticed a small, horrifying detail: his eyes were beginning to move downward.
On the ground, which was like crystal, was the figure of a monster, a very cunning monster... a very powerful monster.
Zephyr and Mistaker exchanged glances, each one displaying a powerful emotion. In Zephyr it was fear, and in Mistaker it was fun.
Mistaker raised his hand and, with a wide smile, snapped his fingers as he leaped out of the glass floor.
...
Zephyr opened his eyes, feeling the rain caress his skin.
"What the hell was that...?"
Mistaker, who was right behind Zephyr, smiled.
"A simple illusion, but it was quite a shock, wasn't it?"
Zephyr crawled across the floor like a cornered animal, soiling his white clothes and looking at Mistaker with fear.
"Y-you're a monster!"
Mistaker shrugged.
"Do you know what happens to everyone who calls me that, Mr. Zephyr?"
Zephyr swallowed hard.
"I-I don't know."
"Some are still alive, most are dead, and others I don't know... they all call me that."
Zephyr opened his mouth, but not because of Mistaker, but because of what was behind him.
The black clouds had gathered into enormous, dark balls, but the most terrifying thing wasn't that; it was that these things in the sky had yellow, scratched eyes.
The Principle of Breath looked at Mistaker and realized that the entity's eyes were the same as the clouds'.
"Do you know why I'm acting this way?"
Zephyr shook his head, lowering his.
Mistaker approached the Saint of Wind, crouched down, grabbed his neck, and lifted him with superhuman strength.
"For interfering with my plans... for speaking to my Nero... Do you think I'm stupid? I know you summoned Nero to your domain, you told him about the Wanderers, and finally, you told him he was going to be one of those who would destroy the world."
Zephyr, the sacred Principle of Breath, was drowning in fear.
"From today onward, you, or any angel, archangel, demigod, god, Principle, or Primordial who dares to approach or speak to my Nero before he becomes a Rank 4 angel... will die."