Single for Eternity
Chapter 80: God of Malevolence

Chapter 80: God of Malevolence

Leiruat’s breath caught in her throat as the name Ebon Val Borg settled heavily in the air. Even as a remnant spirit, she felt an instinctual reaction—a volatile blend of fear, reverence, and an undeniable loathing.

The mention of that name brought with it memories she didn’t even remember forming—fragments of prayers, curses, and whispers in the void.

She swallowed hard. "The God of Malevolence... the one who lives in the fractured planes?"

Lord Skin—the corrupted god who had once been known as Ness, God of Darkness—nodded slowly. There was a strange solemnity to the gesture, as if the mention of Ebon evoked something deeper than dread. A history. A betrayal. A war.

"The very same," he confirmed, his voice carrying an edge that hadn’t been there before. "He is the beginning of decay, the one who devours time and truth. My... other self is trapped within his dominion. Duskholm. A prison veiled as a realm. A place where reality folds inward and thoughts become shackles."

Leiruat’s fingers dug into the arms of her chair, her nails leaving faint crescents in the wood. "Then Iyra... what happened to her?"

He looked at her, expression unreadable. For a long time, he said nothing. Then, almost too softly, "She was sacrificed."

The words hit harder than she expected. Her throat tightened, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. ’Sacrificed.’

"Her essence, her divinity," he continued, "was used as a conduit to pull my power from one timeline to this one. That’s why you didn’t find her. That’s why she doesn’t exist here anymore. Her soul was the tether. The lock. The price."

A deafening silence followed. Heavy, oppressive, and bitter.

Leiruat blinked slowly, her voice trembling with rage wrapped in a shroud of disbelief. "So that’s it? You let her be consumed and then chose to remain? Corrupted, no less?"

He met her gaze without flinching. "I didn’t choose this. It’s what he made of me. Ebon didn’t just take her. He took me. My mind. My body. What you see here is the fragmented, broken will that slipped free when he tried to replicate me."

Leiruat slowly stood from her chair, pushing it back with a soft scrape. Her body trembled with the weight of what she was hearing, what she was seeing. "Then you’re not Ness," she whispered.

He gave a bitter smile, one that held no joy. "I’m what’s left when a god gets rewritten."

Her eyes narrowed. "Then why call yourself Lord Skin?"

"Because that’s all I am now," he replied, his voice low and detached. "Just a skin. A shell. A copy given breath, madness, and a fractured memory. I act in his stead—until he claims this vessel too."

Leiruat’s arms dropped to her sides. Her expression shifted from confusion and anger to something colder. Grim resolve.

"So why haven’t you tried to stop him? Or tell someone? The gods from the higher halls—they’d never allow this."

He let out a hollow laugh. "They can’t hear me. This timeline is sealed. A deviation hidden from the threads of fate. We’re off the main branch, Leiruat. No god or watcher is coming. No aid. No judgment. That’s why you’re here."

She stared at him. "Me?"

"You are the paradox," he said simply. "The only crack in the seal. A piece of something that doesn’t belong here."

The realization slammed into her like a tidal wave. Her existence here—it wasn’t a coincidence. It wasn’t fate. It was a glitch. A breach. She was the flaw in the system.

She looked at the corrupted god again, his once noble features now draped in shadows. Power still rolled off him in waves, dark and intoxicating. Yet beneath it all was a tired soul—shackled, hollow, enduring.

She hurriedly asked a question, trying to reason with herself. "Do you know why he did that?"

Lord Skin shook his head. "I don’t know but I could guess."

She looked at him with gleaming eyes urging him to speak.

He chuckled at her appearance and continued. "It’s because of his wife—Priscilla. She is corrupted and to cure her he is actively trying to gather corrupted people, performing experiments on them. Mostly Gods."

Leiruat placed her hand on her gaping mouth trying to hide her astonishment. Experiment on Gods? What kind of sick bastard was he?

He chuckled in response, a self deprecating laugh. "I can’t even blame him, I would have taken such drastic steps too if something had happened to Iyra. Funnily enough something did happen but now I’m just a pathetic God."

She replied in a heartbeat. "You are still a God."

He chuckled softly. "Yeah you are right about that."

"Then what do I do?" she asked, her voice quieter this time. More honest.

He leaned back in his chair, eyeing her with something akin to curiosity. As though assessing the weight of her soul.

"You find the real me," he said after a long pause. "The one imprisoned in Duskholm. If he still exists. And of course find the orginal Einar too, he must be hiding somewhere his survival skills are bad but his abilities are uncanny."

His dropped to a whisper at the end.

Leiruat frowned. "You don’t know?"

He smirked. "He’s alive. For now. But for how long, I can’t say. Duskholm is Ebon’s realm. It devours minds, grinds divinity into dust. It’s a place where even gods are prey."

She crossed her arms, head tilted. "And you want me to just stroll in and rescue a god?"

"No," he said, his eyes glinting. "I expect you to die trying. But if you somehow succeed... maybe we can stitch this timeline back together. This won’t do much but will help stop Ebon form corrupting the whole Aetherion."

Leiruat scoffed lightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I’ve died before. It wasn’t so bad."

He laughed. It wasn’t warm.

"Then may your madness serve you well, Leiruat."

She turned to leave, but her steps slowed at the door. Her fingers touched the cold frame as her voice emerged, soft and steady.

"Iyra... was the only one who showed me what it meant to care. Not as a god. Not as a warrior. But as a person. I won’t let her memory be erased in silence."

She stepped through the threshold, disappearing into the darkness.

Lord Skin sat alone, shadows curling like serpents around his feet. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"Let’s see what kind of storm you bring, spirit of the future."

Then he turned his head toward the door. With a loud voice, he called. "And you too Einar Sanguis..."