Terminus: To Perfect Humanity VI

[22:01] Harbinger was the only left of the trio that'd come to their Patron's shrine. Those left were the clergymen and guards -- each watching their President as he stood staring into nothing. Each looked at each other, wondering when he'd move or speak again before his stillness was broken by movement.

The president made a sharp swivel on the heel of their backfoot before eyeing the murky black waters intently. Two sets of single eyes peered into the pool's depths as a thought was sent outwards.

"Lord?", the thought sounded almost meek in tone. They were not sure if their Patron required rest or not, and before asking anything of them they'd make sure that this wasn't the case. If there was no form of protest coming from the husk's psionic abilities, then Harbinger would continue onwards.

"I seek audience with you regarding continued development.", the eldritch entity would likely harken back to his request of aid on manipulating the time stream, Cletus Klein, and different avenues of power. Their perfect mind would likely be able to easily remember the times not so long past, right?
(Harbringer)
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[22:09] Continued development...
This, was something he was more than capable of doing...
Though, as their mind was to be prodded to, it was clear that hadn't the same range of thought that he had.

The husk remained idle at the bottom of the pool, constant thoughts mulling behind its gleaming crimson hues. The psionic connection betwixt it, and its attuned initiated, enabling the voice of the Patron to be heard once more.
"Development comes in many forms, Insignis...

Do you come seeking knowledge? Or, do you find your power... Lacking?"
(Etheric Presence)
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[22:13] Harbringer thinks, "Yes to both, Lord. "
[22:21] 'Yes to both.'
Perhaps, that would suffice... However vague it was.

A subtle pull of the telekinetic prowess of the Patron sought to suggest one step closer... However, the cobblestone bore a stark limit, where only the vantablack pool would be. It was as though the world at-large, properties and all wished to offer one the opportunity to embrace its greatest aspect -- a return to most constant force of all: Gravity, into the inky depths of the Patron's shrine.

"Then, fall into my depths... And tell me...--"

"...What do you see?"

Should one listen to the sweet nothings whispering sickly impulses into one's ear, and succumbed to the light tug of spatial manipulation to the pool before them? They would feel an immediate singe against the skin as the fluid made contact...

--but it wouldn't last...
Their attunement to Terminus spared them the misfortune of disintegration, feeling the coldness of the alchemical brew instead. There was no light down here... Save for the surface...
--and to accept the pull of gravity, ever-so-deeper, they would find even -that- light, swallowed away.

Descending into the Darkness...
The domain of its Seers.
(Etheric Presence)
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[22:33] If for but a moment, light broke through the perfect inky blackness of the waters below as Harbinger broke through it's surface. The beckoning of him to submerge themselves would have been obeyed without a moment's hesitation. In truth, the Ruuheerin had begun to find some form of comfort beneath these chilled vantablack waters after sinking into them so often.

From his first ascension ritual to now -- he'd lost track how many times he'd let the acidic waters consume him now. All he knew was that the X-Fluids he was now suspended in were pulling him deeper -- closer to his Patron.

Harbinger lifted his arms outwards into the pool's depths, an act that their ''phantom limbs'' mirrored perfectly. Their mind, body, and spirit surrendered themselves to the visions that Terminus was gifting to him. Within the darkness he would soon be met with fuzzy imaginings born from Terminus' link with him. Time would seem to continue at a crawl as the images sharpened.

What manifested before him in this strange merging of reality and his mindscape was an effigy of Cletus Klein -- chronomancer extraordinaire from a time long gone. It was the only example of a master chronomancer Harbinger had to pull from based on Terminus' advice and ancient wisdom.

"Cletus Klein.", he answered his Patron's question.

Feelings and thoughts were not spoken, but felt by Him: the contemplation, the semblances of doubt -- a yearning to reach that level of ability and realize their potential. It was all there within Harbinger's mind, body, and spirit. They were on the cusp of reaching it...

Yet they were not quite there just yet.

They needed another ''push'' -- something to carry them further than before into the higher echelon of some of the most accomplished magi in history.
(Harbringer)
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[22:52] The husk responded to the disturbance of the fluids around it, with a pulsation of mana that'd ripple through the aquatic domain, thumping through Harbinger's anatomy -- A magus sonar that felt through their body -- anatomic structures across the skeletal, muscular, vascular, magus, and various tie-ins to the nervous system could be vivisected in this very moment.

It all worked in harmony...
It all seemed to be well understood...
Yet, it continued to hide its secrets from the Patron...
It continued to mock Terminus, for his ignorance as to all of its machinations.

Harbinger answered the question... But it ultimately was never the answer itself that Terminus cared for. It was simply something that Harbinger would have to set his own mind towards -- a target. It was an execution, not of the mind's logical mannerism, but of the whims of the spirit beyond it...

The desire of the soul...
With such, came Willpower. The very mainstay of magiabroad...
It was what made the struggling rise up when taken down...
It was what manifested raw mana into the ethereal domain...
It was what awoken magi from their nonmagus counterparts.

Perhaps, it was fitting that such a powerful artifact of the human condition, was born from the Heart.

Every palpitation...
Every pulsation...
Every. Single. Beat...
Could he heard...
Could be felt...
Harbinger had to hold his breath to descend this far, it was without question that the heart would work harder to pry as much oxygen stored in the lungs as it could...
To channel it through his blood, to burn from the carbon dioxide build-up.

The observation played out, as they descended deeper... Yet deeper.

In defiance of the substance that encompassed them all, there was a light down here... Something that enabled one to barely make out the details before them. The titanic husk of the Patron lied here, still... But their left arm took to a sapphire shine. Particularly across various leylines that took geometric pathways down the shoulder, to encircle around a runic transmutation circle of sorts marred within the center of the palm.

This was the Patron's Brand...
Its shine declared of the etheric pull that transcended the physical. It was not the force that was drawing one down here... Rather, it seemed to pull at something beyond their body -- Drawing fatigue where entropy would coalesce.

Never before had such a manifestation been turned to Harbinger before...
Witnessed only when weaponized against Za'agan so long ago, in their brief display of initial defiance. As telekinetic powers pushed to their apex, the arm of the husk gravitated upward, controlled solely by one's magical impulses versus the atrophied muscle within the appendage.

As its touch grew near, it sought to pry at the very air clung to by one's lungs, to depress one's physique and vitality en tow.
"There is yet another boon I can offer you... But it comes at a cost. A tithe of mana, permanently stripped of your circuit, relinquished to be a part of me.

In turn, I shall impart upon you -- My mark, scribed upon your heart until the end of your days."

A permanent exchange... Far more steep of a cost compared to the matters offered before. Thus, it was up to Harbinger to consider now, as he stood upon the fringe of the door...

For this, was the point of no return.

(Etheric Presence)
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[23:04] Brought beneath the waves of a perfect darkness, Harbinger now stood at the precipice -- the event horizon of drastic change. The cost of such power had been set, yet there was no semblance of hesitation or uncertainty in their being. The moment he'd submerged himself within the black ichor of their Patron, they had surrendered themselves completely...

Just as they had the day they'd first met.

Mind.
Body.
Heart.
And soul.

All of Hassan's being had long since belonged to Terminus.

He was his Harbinger.

His Harbinger of change. Of promises kept. Of times before The End to all suffering and wanton destruction in this tumultuous world. There was no price he was not willing to pay time and time again to prove his loyalty. At this point, he sometimes wondered if he was himself. Everything he was and owned had been given to Antefinem -- to Terminus.

Money, time, energy -- every thought that crossed Harbinger's mind was often in contemplation of how to preserve His legacy. On how to make Him succeed and be better on His behalf. Even now, this power that was to be imprinted into his heart was just the most recent incarnation of his ''love letter'' to his Lord and Savior. It was a memento to be seared into his being -- a brand to remind him that Harbinger was no longer alone, and that every ounce of his being belonged to a cause he truly believed in.

"Your mark has always been here...", even if it hadn't had the chance to take physical manifestation until this very moment. Terminus had changed their life for the better, and in turn, he had done the same for Him. This transaction of time and effort had borne fruit time after time, and this one would be no different.

He'd made his choice -- the same one he'd made over a decade ago.

Terminus had his blessing and permission.

Harbinger accepted this gift -- chains and all, and whatever might come from it.
(Harbringer)
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[23:36] Love: What an enigmatic human condition...
While a part of him was curious to understand what it was? There was the more innate part of him that had existed since the beginning -- the constant, hungry vie to claw his way to the top. To brave the worst of trials and tribulations as Fate intended and proclaim himself victorious above them...

He was going to become the very power that would unmake his former oppressors. That would -delete- everything he saw wrong with the world...

It wasn't so unlike how it was then...
All that was different, was the sheer scale of it all.

Surely, one could mull on the meaning of it...
But given the propensity of mortals to think on such a subject, to speak on such a subject, and even scribe upon it as an antipodal to 'Hate'? It was deduced...

Perhaps, not even humanity knew the meaning of the word.
The gargantuan hand of the Patronwas clasping its digits upon Harbinger, leaving them enveloped in a veil of blank sapphire. The ethereal resonations sought to knead beyond flesh, tugging away to feed upon them. At last, Terminus could channel their urge to consume, without going on the rampages so desperately expected of the common demon...
Of the common beast...

So long ago, had he grown... Ascended...
Far more tactful...
Far more evolved...

It was the shedding of essence that was born from the marrying of soul and body: A waning of raw Willpower to ultimately empower Terminus' own... But it was far from one-sided. Harbinger had proven to be quite the aide -- one that had earned their compensation.

It was as though one skewered them through the chest -- Into the heart directly.
To think, this was only the second mortal entity he had actually enacted such a feat upon, save for Varrach's spawn. A telekinetically born digit sought to carve into the cardiac tissue, omitting the skin above it from its semi-tangible touch. The traumatization of the mortal body was likely inevitable, each digit acting akin to a separate pen, capable of completing yet another portion of the runic characters that lined a circle on the still-beating heart.

"Then, realize it in full..."

A subtle flex of one's digits, and the heart would be enraptured by one's stasis to hold it still -- if only to ensure absolute precision with the actual brand that'd print the remainder of the mark directly within the runic ring, feeding back a portion of the mana taken in a sudden surge. It sought to resuscitate what was briefly wrought past the veil of Death.

With a heart marked, and charged with an excessive amount of mana, it'd fire off across all of their circuitry, threatening to fry them from the inside! In fact... It did. Though, as their body sought to tear itself apart, it was swiftly fed into by the very esoteric magics that sought to unmake one's ailments across their many dives into these hallowed depths. Where the muscularity singed away, it was rebuilt... Where the leylines sought to rip themselves apart? They'd be stretched, re-scribed and mended alas...

A single change sought to break a body it was never made for, apart...

But in the Patron's incessant efforts? He would force nature to oblige by his desires. A hastened heartbeat sought to pound into Harbinger's ears... Its every pulsation sought to flex their every muscle, overclocked both in physicality and its bond with the soul, channeling the mana of one's Will with far more intensity that it was ever mortally intended to.

It was in this moment, that the leylines glowed through the skin, highlighting the veins between their expansive trail across his body, protruding from head, arms, and every which surface exposed to the realm at large, gleaming through the seams of one's apparel in twain.

"Realize: Perfection."
Such invasive energies sought to shine through one's eyes as well... Casting a subtle resonation that would radiate their figure entirely... Though, perhaps the likes of claiming air for their tortured lungs would prove their top priority in these fleeting moments.
(Etheric Presence)
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[00:18] [ Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jrg9KxGNeJY ]

Contemplation on the human emotion of 'love' seemed to elude Terminus, yet these thoughts were laid bare to Harbinger if only by nature of their strong spiritual link. Flooding their mind with their own worn and tormented past, it melded perfectly with the driving forces of what made mortals 'brave the worst trials and tribulations'.

Such meek creatures would go to great lengths to rage against the dying of the light -- to break the chains of a Fate they had no say in having made. To forge their own destiny...

To not be slaves to the whims of entities far greater than themselves.

It was the same song and dance Terminus had been victim to. The curse of being the eternal loser in a game that was never in their favor.

Yet, the hatred that had fueled Terminus for so long was absent from Harbinger's now literally bleeding heart. As the vibrancy of life continued to slip from both his spirit and body, the fires of sheer will helped him hold on just a little longer before Azrael's call threatened to steal him away forever. This burning fire -- this desire to persevere was bolstered not by Harbinger's own determination and withering vigor, but the desires of all those that had aided him directly or indirectly.

Haloke. Melia. Dagon. Mehrune. Euxenos. Aeric. Cepheus. Cletus Klein. Varrach. Ala. Kindle. Kaelvyr. Anya. Za'gan. Malxe. Ishildr. Muse. Grey. Mel. Ceros. Literal generations of Equisols.

And of course... Terminus themselves.

Harbinger had come to know he was not alone, for he was the amalgamation of dozens -- hundreds of people's wisdom. The lessons he'd learned, the friendships forged and lost. The lives that weighed upon his shoulders he was burdened to carry and the scars that were wrought in the pursuit of his goals -- they'd defined Harbinger. Yet, never had he not been the one to control HOW they'd defined him.

As his chest lay bare before his Patron, and his mana circuitry shined as he was forever altered, Terminus would be able to once again peek into his inner workings. For all the love he had in him, he carried great burdens as well. This was not something new to Terminus, yet he hoped it would remind him of the duality in all things.

In Themselves.

Terminus had endured so much for so long, yet Harbinger felt on some subconscious level they were angling everything as if they were still alone. Harbinger had been found for so long now, yet why did it feel like Terminus was still tackling the world alone?

"I am You, Lord. And You are me.", a strained thought let slip through as his body and spirit erupted in a burst of all-consuming light. Power surged through them as Harbinger felt his body burn in agony. The previously cool waters began to steam around the Ruuheerin.

Their twin spirit seemed to bolster in size and magnitude as the potency of their magics were amplified drastically and against nature's desires.

"Two sides of the same coin.", the point to all this was convoluted at best, yet equally simple: Harbinger was just another mortal caught in the cycle of the world, yet he'd found a way to break his chains. He'd followed in Terminus' steps in that way, yet he had preserved the love and kindness he had since his birth. After such a long life, was it not time for Terminus to find his?

No matter how meek it might be...

Was Harbinger truly just another pawn to be discarded once his time was up? Would his Lord not mourn his passing? The burning of his city? His legacy? Would the loss of all that he'd built not be added to his mountain of suffering? If it didn't, then it made sense that Harbinger and Antefinem held no place in their heart, but if it'd be such a devastating blow to them and their plans...

Then clearly there was something in all of it that was worth protecting. Not just logically to facilitate their plans, but something that maybe even Terminus did not fully understand yet.

It was at this moment -- at the apex of Harbinger's ascension that the realization might had donned upon Terminus. Maybe the human spirit had infected his once-demonic core with a fraction of it's charming naivity. It was also at this moment, that Harbinger's full consciousness returned as he was brought from Death's Door.

As the light died and the pain subsided, Harbingerstood at the bottom of the vantablack waters with a look of confidence and pride. At the expense of some of their reserves, whatever that'd been left had been amplified to the nth degree. Static crawled over their being before dissipating into the inky blackness around him, meanwhile their chronomancy?

Part 1
(Harbringer)
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[00:30] It'd become far, far more potent. The time stream laid bare before his physical and spiritual eyes -- mixing, swirling, and dividing at different points. Future, past, and present destroyed and remade themselves in altered timelines until Harbinger saw the world he wished to become reality.

The End had come: no more misery, death, suffering, uncertainty, and disarray. It was a beautiful world that had been foretold by the Great Beyonder so many times before. A world His Harbinger had worked to help bring to fruition. Visions of such a world manifested into reality above the Ruuheer, and with an open hand he grasped at the dream.

Trying so hard to grab hold of it, he rocketed himself upwards until be broke through the water's surface with tremendous force. A poetic manifestation of him constantly chasing that goal -- Terminus' goal.

"I and so many others have relied on You for so long, Lord.", the vision was just out of arms reach. Harbinger swore he could have almost touched it.

"Please do not forget about how You've relied on us.", there was no iota of pride or malice in his statement, but a humble plea of consideration.

"Do not forget that there are thousands who love You.", Harbinger included.

"All working towards Your dream.", a pause.

"We love You. We'd do anything for You. Please don't let that feeling go unreciprocated.", even if He had to lie about it, maybe one day that lie would become truth.

"It'd crush us so utterly and profoundly...", he didn't want to finish the thought. The day such a harsh truth reached the masses would be the day Terminus' dream would die. Even if He couldn't bring Himself to feel such a way, to know that his Patron at least tried to find it within Themselves to find that -- to birth a minute portion of humanity if only for them...

That'd be enough.

If Harbinger didn't deserve -- if Antefinem did not, then who did? Did Terminus even love himself, or was he chasing these lofty goals off his nature rather than his own goals? At the very least, it was something to think about, no?
(Harbringer)
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[00:55] Terminus was well aware of the countless entities that have perished for such a vision...

Countless demons...
Countless humans...
Giants, Sirenians, Ookami -- They were all human-likes, as far as he was concerned.

However, there was a stark difference between those before, and those now...
Before, it was always established on an independent basis...
One that arranged bonds solely on power...
On borrowed time...
Bonds... Deals... Arrangements that would always fail.

The human condition damned them all...
The hellish nature of demonology damned them all...
The doomed escapades succumbing to the wrath of Gods and Patrons abroad...
It was constant...
It was ceaseless...
And with so many boldly decrying him... At proving the folly of his existence...
His Vision...
His idolization of such an enigmatic concept...

Perhaps... If even a little… One had come to comprehend such hatred... To internalize it...
To Hate The Self
It was what made his powers of the darkness absolute -- daring to tip the cliff for something much more pure.

What room did one have for even the slightest semblance of Love, in a world that demanded Power over All -- It was what reigned absolute.

Then again, these lot were different...
Not all worked solely for Power...
Not all worked solely for forbidden knowledge...
Not all worked solely for an advantageous position... --and yet, enough still were.

Human nature never changed throughout the generations. If anything, time only allowed them to grow more bold -- to challenge so callously, with a sense of self-divination he saw to be the bane of the world abroad. After all... Who else was more justified to fix such a broken world, but himself? Even if, he too, would deserve naught more than the oblivion he sought to invoke.

It was his destiny.

Alas, the words Harbinger spoke surely made it to the Patron...
These lot relied on him...
They 'loved' him...
They were... Different.
Was it possible that such an aspect, such as 'love' was not much different than Hate?

Could it have truly been much different after all? Where one sought the pursuit and fascination of something, the other seemed to do... Much the same.

It was an enigmatic concept.
To Hate Humanity... To realize they Loved him...
To be fascinated with the absorption of all mortality within a boundless veil of oblivion...
To realize they too, had a fascination with him to pursue such an endeavor...

Yet, it did not play in twain to the matters of those before them. Perhaps... This was in fact, the answer to one's constantly pestering question.

No such words of reassurance would meet Harbinger...
But at the very least, Terminus had something new imparted upon in him.
A thorough understanding of what 'Love' was.
(Etheric Presence)
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