The Mask of the Void
In the Nexus Void, the Star Eater stood motionless. Azathoth watched from his throne of shadows, his eyes burning with expectation.
Ten-year-old Serena stood in the center of the abyss. Her body was a roadmap of three years of torture. She was trembling—not from fear anymore, but from the sheer exhaustion of her spirit.
Azathoth floated down, "Serena is dead," Azathoth said, is voice dripping with malice. "She died when she stabbed those people. She died when she watched the Light abandon her."
azathoth laugh mockingly and said "Look at yourself."
"Soft hands. A trembling voice. A body the world has already decided to protect... and to underestimate." "You call that strength?"
A woman is expected to endure. To obey. To be rescued. Even when she fights, the world still sees something fragile.
He steps closer, his eyes empty of compassion.
masculinity equals power and femininity equals weakness, serena said yes lord, you are right as always. azathoth smile and said the world bow to men not woman. serena said yes lord. azathoth said from now you are simon, for the old have die and the new has come . you are now simon. serena body began to transform as her bones shifted and her bones became thick. Azathoth smiled and said i only made you a woman, so i can fracture your mind.
Azathoth continue to laugh, azathoth said i knew a woman mind is more emotional, more tiny than a man.
simon nodded his head and said smart move, you are all knowing after all.
what do you truly want, what exactly do you want. simon said.
Azathoth voice echo throughout the entire void,
Azathoth looked at him without blinking.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, a faint smile formed.
I want the world to remember what fear truly is, I want every sunrise to be greeted not with hope, but with dread. I HATE love, i despise kindness, i despise everything goood. The void begins to shake, azathoth voice echo" i want to erase everything good, Love is nothing but a weakness waiting to be exploited. Mercy is an excuse used by the weak because they lack the courage to finish what they started. the void begins to shift as demonic statue begins to appears. simon body began to shake, as azathoth continued I want mankind to awaken to the only truth that has ever existed. "MAN IS BORN TO SUFFER". The first cry of every child is pain and The final breath of every old man is pain.. simon look around the void, azathoth said no no no, look within yourself, only suffering. you are born to suffer. simon pointed at azathoth then simon spoke master, silence when i talk, azathoth spoke. i am not done with you.
azathoth said talk only when i command you to or i ask you. azathoth continue with his speech
I shall tear away every comforting lie, I shall rip hope from their hearts, I shall extinguish every light they desperately protect.
I shall make them understand the true meaning of suffering
They will curse the day they were born.
They will beg for death.
They will pray for salvation.
And heaven shall answer them with silence.
The old world is diseased.
"It has rotted from the inside.
It deserves neither salvation nor mercy.
It deserves fire
It deserves ruin
It deserves oblivion
So let it burn. simon body began to shake, as he began to sweat.
Let every kingdom become ash.
Let every empire collapse.
Let every monument crumble into dust.
Let every hero fail.
Let every legend be forgotten.
I will erase the age of peace.
I will erase the age of hope.
I will erase the age of compassion.
In their place...
I shall give them a new age.
An age where terror is law.
An age where despair is worship.
An age where grief is as common as breathing.
An age where children are born knowing only darkness.
An age where no one remembers the meaning of joy.
They will inherit not paradise...
"...but my world."
I will purge the weak.
I will elevate the proud.
I will purge the righteous.
I will purge the wicked.
None shall escape.
All shall kneel.
All shall suffer.
All shall witness the death of everything they believed eternal.
I shall take.
And I shall give
I shall take their laughter.
And give them screams.
And give them despair.
I shall take their future.
And give them endless night.
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I am not their savior.
I am not their king.
I am not their executioner.
I am something far worse.
I am the hand that tears meaning from existence.
I am the shadow that follows every dream.
I am the whisper that turns hope into madness.
I am the beginning of the last age.
My wrath will outlive empires.
My anger will echo through centuries.
My name will be spoken only in fear.
When mothers silence their children...
When kings lock their gates...
When armies throw down their swords because they know resistance is meaningless...
They will remember.
They will remember that I came not to rule.
I came to end.
And when the last light is extinguished...
When the final prayer dies upon trembling lips...
When the world has forgotten the sound of laughter...
Only then...
"Only then...
...will I call my work complete.
Silence returned.
Simon stood motionless.
His expression had emptied, as though every word had settled somewhere deep inside him.
Without a word, Azathoth slowly raised his right hand.
Flames gathered around his fingers.
They twisted together, becoming a long whip woven entirely from living fire. Its heat distorted the air, and glowing embers drifted across the chamber before vanishing into darkness.
Azathoth's smile widened.
It was calm.
Patient.
Repeat it.
Simon did not answer.
The whip cracked through the air.
Its sound alone echoed like thunder.
Repeat it.
Simon lowered his head.
His lips parted.
I... want the world to remember what fear truly is.
Azathoth watched him in silence.
I want every smile to become a memory.
I want every song to end in silence.
I want every sunrise to be greeted not with hope, but with dread.
His voice grew steadier.
I despise love.
I despise kindness.
I despise compassion.
I despise mercy.
One sentence became another.
Then another.
Word after word.
Line after line.
The declaration poured from Simon's mouth exactly as he had heard it, as though every sentence had already carved itself into his mind.
He simply listened.
The corners of his mouth rose ever so slightly.
By the time Simon reached the final words, there was no hesitation left in his voice.
...Only then...
...Only then...
..will I call my work complete.
The last syllable faded into the darkness.
Azathoth's smile remained.
Slowly, he lowered the burning whip.
Good," he said softly.
"I am... Simon now," he said.
The voice that came out of his throat was not the voice of a ten-year-old girl. It was deep, rasping, and utterly terrifying—the sound of a boy who had seen the bottom of hell and walked back out. simon—formerly Serena—walked through the Void, he looked at her hands. They were the same hands that had stabbed Clara and Jack.
he started to chuckle. It was a low, dry sound.
The joke is on Astragel, she thought.
The laugh grew. It wasn't the laughter of a child playing. It was the frantic, manic cackle of someone who had realized the universe was a cruel, nihilistic punchline.
Astragel is 'Good,' right? Simon thought, leaning her head back, her mask distorted in the shadows. He preaches about 'souls' and 'freedom.' And he watched. He watched me be tortured for three years, and then he let me kill the only people who wanted to help me.
The laugh erupted into a full-blown, hysterical shriek.
He's not a God. He's the audience! He's just watching the show!
Simon stumbled, her mind fracturing. She looked at the Star Eater, then at the distant form of the chained Luciferio.
It's all so funny, he thought. The hero, Ignis, is still out there, right? He's going to train. He's going to get strong. He's going to think he's saving the world.
he began to dance through the Void, a jagged, broken dance. he had lost the ability to feel sorrow, replaced by a permanent, vibrating madness. The "Simon" persona—the cold, hyper-masculine, emotionless assassin—was the only way he could keep the world from ending her/him.
he looked into the void, her eyes wide, staring at the horror of her own existence. he wasn't just a girl anymore. he was a weapon. She was a tragedy. She was the Void's own twisted comedian.
"Ready to work," Simon whispered into the dark, his voice a gravelly, mechanical growl.
And in the darkness, the God of Lust and Despair smiled. His tool was finally sharp.
The void stretched out in every direction—an endless, suffocating expanse of absolute nothingness. There was no ground, no sky, only the deep, crushing weight of the dark.
Simon stared up as the cosmic entity known as Azathoth slowly rose to his feet. The being’s immense presence seemed to dwarf the surrounding emptiness.
"What do you want of me?" Simon’s voice echoed, sounding thin and fragile in the vast space. "What do you want me to become?"
Azathoth slowly tilted his gaze downward, his eyes piercing through the shadows. "Serena," the entity murmured, the name slipping out like a lingering ghost.
Simon’s jaw tightened, his posture stiffening. "No. I am Simon now. What do you want me to do?"
A moment of profound clarity suddenly washed over Simon. The fragmented pieces of cosmic logic finally slotted into place. He looked up, his eyes widening. "I understand now. I finally understand. You and Astragel... you are one. You do not fight each other because you are the exact same entity."
A slow, chilling smile crept across Azathoth's face. "Finally caught up. You are smart."
"I know I cannot do anything against your will," Simon admitted, the resignation heavy in his chest. "Do you just want to put me in this endless suffering, or do you actually have a purpose for me? What do you want of me, Lord?"
The Artifact of God
Instead of answering immediately, Azathoth reached into the fabric of the void itself. When he pulled his hand back, resting in his palm was a jagged, pulsating stone as dark as a starless night.
"What is that, Lord?" Simon asked, unable to tear his eyes away from it.
"This is the Black Gem," Azathoth declared, his voice resonating with ancient power. "Humanity calls it the Power Ranger Gem. I call it the Artifact of God."
Azathoth stepped closer, the darkness parting around him. "I want you to wield this gem. That is why I have been training you in this void. For this exact moment. Once you wear this gem, you become what humans absurdly call a 'Power Ranger.' But I call it... a Son of God. Once you acquire all seven gems and fuse them together, you will become the very image of God."
The entity paused, his expression hardening into something terrifyingly absolute. "But with great power comes great responsibility. Your responsibility is to bring absolute despair to the land. To all of creation."
Azathoth held the gem up, letting it catch an invisible, eerie light. "Do you know what makes this gem so special? It was once golden. Pure. Radiant. But when sin entered the world, the gem corrupted and turned pitch black. Just like you. Once, you were innocent little Serena. But when I entered your life, you corrupted. You became Simon."
The Burden of Despair
Azathoth leaned in close, his cosmic weight pressing down on Simon's very soul. He outlined the strict, unforgiving terms of Simon's new existence.
"Once you have this gem," Azathoth whispered, "you carry the weight of human misery. You are the vanguard of their suffering. You must understand what it means to fail me."
Azathoth listed the conditions of failure:
Joy: Anytime a human smiles, you have failed.
Love: Every time a human confesses to their crush, you have failed.
Debate: Anytime humans argue over whether Messi or Ronaldo is better, you have failed.
Escapism: Every single time a human watches an anime or turns on a cartoon, the blame is on you. You have failed.
"When you have this gem, all humans should know is despair and suffering," Azathoth commanded. "Can you do that for me?"
"Yes," Simon said, swallowing hard. "I can."
Azathoth’s eyes narrowed. "Are you truly worthy of holding such a gem?"
"I... I am not sure," Simon admitted, his voice trembling slightly.
"Exactly," Azathoth replied, standing tall once more. "Because if you wield this powerful object, the burden of their petty happiness falls entirely on your shoulders. Humans should know nothing but pain and suffering until they die."
Simon looked up at the towering entity, taking a deep breath to steady his resolve. "Okay, Lord."
Departure from the Void
Satisfied, Azathoth turned away, dismissing the heavy atmosphere as easily as one might brush off dust. "I will be leaving now to handle the Luciferio race. Bye, sweetheart. Serena, it is you and me forever and ever. Nothing can separate us."
Azathoth began to walk away, stepping toward the edges of reality.
Panic flared in Simon's chest. The thought of remaining entirely alone in the suffocating nothingness was unbearable. "Wait! You can't leave me in this place! It is just an empty void of darkness!"
Azathoth paused, glancing over his shoulder. With a flick of his wrist, a swirling, blinding portal ripped through the fabric of the void.
"Fine," Azathoth sighed. "Follow me."
Relief washing over him, Simon ran toward the portal, calling out to the cosmic god ahead of him. "Thank you!"