# Throne of No Equal: The God of Destruction Walks the Root
## Chapter 4 (Continued): Divine Entanglements Deepen
"Entertainment value?" Kama repeated, her perfect brows arching.
"Sure. If I just wanted to destroy problematic things, I'd be done already and off to the next dimension," Viyrim explained, toweling his hair dry. "But this place is interesting. Your food is excellent, the beds are comfortable, and watching you all scramble around this corrupted wish-granting device is genuinely amusing."
Kama stared at him for a long moment before breaking into genuine laughter. "By all the heavens, you really are something new." She shook her head, lavender hair cascading around her shoulders. "Most beings with your level of power are tediously self-important. You're... refreshingly straightforward."
"Being self-important is exhausting," Viyrim yawned, proving his point. "Now, was there something specific you wanted, or did you just come to chat while I'm half-naked?"
"Both, perhaps," Kama admitted with a sly smile. "I came with information I thought might interest you, but I won't pretend the view isn't a delightful bonus."
Viyrim rolled his eyes. "The information?"
"There's movement in the shadows of this reality. Other divine entities are... concerned about your presence." Kama traced a pattern in the condensation on the marble wall. "Particularly after your little lunch date with Void Shiki. Meeting with an avatar of the Root is generally reserved for those who have achieved a True Magic."
"Politics," Viyrim groaned. "Always the same in every dimension. Someone new shows up with more power, and suddenly all the local gods get territorial."
"Precisely," Kama nodded. "Though in this case, it's not just territorialism. Your very existence—destruction incarnate without limitation—threatens certain cosmic balances."
Viyrim snorted. "I am cosmic balance. That's literally my job."
"In your reality, perhaps. Here, things are different. Forces must be equal and opposite. Creation and destruction in harmony. Light and dark in equilibrium."
"Boring," Viyrim declared, stretching. "Your cosmic rules sound exhausting to maintain."
"They can be," Kama admitted, moving closer until she was mere inches from him. "But they also create... interesting tensions. Opposites attracting. Forbidden alliances." Her eyes glowed with mischievous intent. "Divine beings seeking out those who should be their natural enemies."
"Is that what you're doing?" Viyrim asked bluntly. "Seeking out your 'natural enemy'?"
Kama's smile was enigmatic. "Perhaps I'm simply hedging my bets. If you truly are beyond our cosmic rules, better to be in your good graces than not."
"At least you're honest about your self-interest," Viyrim acknowledged. "That's more than most gods manage."
"I am Desire incarnate," Kama replied. "Desire is inherently self-interested." She reached out, her fingertips almost—but not quite—touching his chest. "Though I admit, you present an interesting puzzle. What does a being who wants for nothing desire?"
Viyrim caught her wrist before her fingers could make contact with his skin. "Right now? To finish my bath in peace." His grip was gentle but utterly immovable, like trying to shift a mountain with a feather.
Rather than being offended, Kama seemed delighted by the rejection. "Fascinating. No one refuses Kama. It's conceptually impossible in this reality."
"I'm not from this reality," Viyrim reminded her, releasing her wrist. "Your conceptual rules don't apply to me."
"Clearly," she purred, rubbing her wrist thoughtfully. "How invigorating to find something truly new after eons of existence." She stepped back, bowing with exaggerated formality. "I'll leave you to your bath, God of Destruction. But I suspect we'll be seeing much more of each other."
"Can't wait," Viyrim replied dryly.
Kama laughed again, the sound lingering in the air even as her form dissolved into motes of light and disappeared.
Once she was gone, Vados approached with fresh towels. "An interesting encounter, my lord. The goddess seems quite taken with you."
"She's taken with the novelty," Viyrim corrected, sinking back into his bath. "Gods get bored easily. Something new is always exciting, especially when it doesn't immediately threaten their existence."
"And does she threaten yours?" Vados inquired mildly.
Viyrim snorted. "Please. She's impressive by this world's standards, but she's still bound by its rules." He closed his eyes, enjoying the warm water. "Though I will admit, she's more entertaining than most divine entities we've encountered. Might be worth keeping around for amusement value."
"As you wish, my lord." Vados bowed slightly, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Shall I inform the kitchen to delay breakfast until after you've completed your bath?"
"Yes, and make sure they include those little fish egg things. What are they called again?"
"Ikura, my lord."
"Right. Those. They're delicious." Viyrim sank deeper into the water, already half-dozing. "And see if you can find out more about this movement in the shadows Kama mentioned. I hate being surprised during meals or naps."
"Of course, Lord Viyrim." Vados bowed again before departing, leaving the God of Destruction to his contemplative soaking.
---
The next few days established a comfortable routine. Viyrim would sleep until mid-morning, enjoy a leisurely breakfast (often in bed), soak in his enormous bath, then explore the Einzbern grounds or nap in various picturesque locations. Illya, playing the perfect hostess, ensured his every comfort was attended to, while quietly gathering information about his powers and limitations—not that she discovered many of the latter.
On the fourth day, as Viyrim lounged in a sunlit courtyard watching koi swim in a decorative pond, he sensed another approach—different from Kama's seductive aura or Void Shiki's overwhelming emptiness. This presence radiated pure, unadulterated divine light, so bright it was almost painful even to his extraordinary senses.
"You don't need to lurk," he called out without turning around. "If you want to talk, just materialize and get it over with."
The air shimmered with golden light, coalescing into the form of a woman of breathtaking beauty. Unlike Kama's dark sensuality, this newcomer radiated radiance and purity. Her golden hair flowed like liquid sunlight around a face of perfect proportions. She wore a white and gold dress that seemed to be woven from starlight itself, and a regal bearing that spoke of absolute authority.
"Amaterasu," Viyrim identified, finally turning to face her. "Shinto goddess of the sun. I was wondering when you'd show up."
The goddess inclined her head slightly, her expression serene but watchful. "You know of me, yet I know nothing of you. A curious imbalance."
"I make it a point to learn about local deities when visiting new realities," Viyrim shrugged. "Professional courtesy and all that."
"And yet you showed no such courtesy by announcing your arrival," Amaterasu observed, her voice like wind chimes despite the implied criticism. "You simply appeared, disrupted a sacred ritual, and began altering our reality's fundamental structures."
"I didn't alter anything," Viyrim corrected. "I just temporarily rewrote a couple of heroic spirits who were annoying me. And technically, Vados announced our arrival to the local conceptual framework. Not our fault if your divine early warning system didn't pick it up."
Amaterasu's perfect features remained composed, though a flicker of something—perhaps irritation, perhaps amusement—passed through her luminous eyes. "The divine hierarchy of this reality is complex and carefully balanced. Your presence... disrupts that balance."
"So I've been told," Viyrim yawned, turning back to watch the koi. "Is there a point to this visit beyond stating the obvious? Because these fish are actually quite fascinating."
The sun goddess moved closer, her radiance causing the water to sparkle with unnatural brilliance. "I came to assess your intentions. Unlike some of my more... reactive divine siblings, I prefer to understand before acting."
"Smart," Viyrim approved. "My intentions are simple—tourist stuff. See the sights, try the food, observe the local magical war, maybe destroy that corrupted Grail if it becomes too annoying. The usual."
"The usual," Amaterasu repeated, a hint of disbelief in her melodious voice. "You speak of potentially erasing an artifact connected to the Root itself as casually as human tourists discuss visiting monuments."
"Because to me, it is casual," Viyrim replied, finally meeting her gaze directly. His golden eyes, normally half-lidded with perpetual boredom, now gleamed with ancient power that matched her own. "I've destroyed things you can't even conceptualize, sun goddess. Things that would make your precious Root seem like a child's toy."
For the first time, Amaterasu seemed to truly comprehend the being before her. Despite his relaxed posture and youthful appearance, Viyrim radiated an aura of destruction so vast it dwarfed her own divine light.
"I see," she said softly, her light dimming slightly in acknowledgment. "You are not merely powerful. You are Destruction itself, in a way our reality has never encountered."
"Now you're getting it," Viyrim nodded, his expression softening as he returned to watching the koi. "Don't worry though. I don't destroy things without reason. Your sun is safe unless you decide to go supernova unexpectedly."
The casual way he referenced her celestial body—the source of her divine power and identity—as if it were merely one star among many (which, to him, it was) seemed to both offend and fascinate Amaterasu.
"You are... not what I expected," she admitted, settling gracefully beside him at the pond's edge.
"I get that a lot," Viyrim replied with a slight smile. "What were you expecting? Horns? Constant explosions? A maniacal laugh?"
"Something more... apocalyptic," Amaterasu confessed. "The entities in our pantheon associated with destruction tend toward the dramatic."
"Dramatic is exhausting," Viyrim shrugged. "Why bother with all the theatrics when you can just get the job done efficiently?"
"Indeed," she murmured, watching as a particularly large koi swam near her reflection in the water. "Perhaps there is wisdom in your approach."
They sat in surprisingly comfortable silence for several minutes, two cosmic entities contemplating the simple beauty of fish swimming in a pond.
"I have a proposition," Amaterasu said finally, turning to face him fully. "The divine council is meeting tomorrow to discuss your presence and its implications for our reality. Rather than having us debate about you in your absence, perhaps you would consider attending? It would allow for direct communication and potentially avoid... misunderstandings."
Viyrim considered this, his head tilted thoughtfully. "A divine council meeting, huh? Sounds terribly formal and boring." He sighed dramatically. "But I suppose it's better than having a bunch of local deities plotting behind my back. Fine, I'll come. As long as there's good food."
Amaterasu's perfect lips curved into a small smile. "I believe that can be arranged. Divine ambrosia is typically served at such gatherings."
"I'll bring Vados to be my food taster," Viyrim decided. "No offense, but gods have a long history of poisoning each other at fancy dinners. Across multiple dimensions, surprisingly consistent behavior."
"A wise precaution," Amaterasu acknowledged, rising with fluid grace. "The meeting will be held at Takamagahara—the celestial plain above Mount Fuji. I shall send a guide to escort you tomorrow at noon."
"Make it two in the afternoon," Viyrim countered. "I don't do mornings if I can help it."
The sun goddess looked momentarily taken aback by having her divine scheduling preferences countered so casually, but then nodded. "Two in the afternoon, then. Until tomorrow, God of Destruction." With a final incline of her head, she dissolved into particles of golden light that ascended toward the sun.
"Divine politics," Viyrim muttered once she was gone, returning his attention to the koi. "Always the same tedious nonsense, no matter what dimension you're in."
---
The news of Viyrim's impending meeting with the divine council spread quickly through the supernatural community of Japan. By evening, the Einzbern Castle had become an impromptu gathering point for various interested parties, all seeking information or trying to position themselves advantageously before the meeting.
Illya, ever the strategic thinker, had arranged a formal dinner, inviting not only the Masters and Servants from the interrupted lunch but several new faces as well. The grand dining hall of the castle had been transformed for the occasion, with elaborate place settings and floral arrangements that would have impressed even the most discerning aristocrats.
"You didn't have to go to all this trouble," Viyrim commented as he entered the hall, dressed in more formal attire that Vados had materialized for him—a stylized version of his usual robes in deep purple and black, with subtle golden embroidery. "I would have been happy with pizza in the salon."
"This isn't just dinner," Illya explained, herself dressed in an elegant white gown that emphasized her doll-like appearance. "This is diplomacy. Everyone who matters in Fuyuki's supernatural community wants to speak with you before tomorrow's council meeting."
"Everyone who matters, huh?" Viyrim surveyed the gathering crowd with mild interest. "And who decided who matters?"
"I did," Illya replied without hesitation, a sly smile playing at her lips. "Consider it my contribution as your hostess. Information gathering disguised as hospitality."
"Clever girl," Viyrim acknowledged with genuine approval. "Fine, let's get this diplomatic dinner over with."
The guest list was indeed impressive. Beyond the Masters and Servants from the previous lunch, new faces included a tall, aristocratic man with long blue hair who was introduced as Lord El-Melloi II, a representative from the Clock Tower; a striking woman with fox ears and multiple tails who called herself Tamamo-no-Mae, clearly another divine entity in humanoid form; and surprisingly, a serious-looking man in priest's garments who watched everything with calculating eyes.
"Kirei Kotomine," Illya whispered to Viyrim as they made their way to the head of the table. "Officially the War's supervisor. Unofficially, he has his own agenda. Watch him carefully."
"I'm more interested in the fox lady," Viyrim replied, his eyes drawn to Tamamo's multiple tails. "Another divine being slumming it with the mortals?"
"A fragmented aspect of Amaterasu herself," Illya confirmed. "Though she doesn't advertise that connection too widely."
"Interesting," Viyrim mused. "Your world has a lot of gods walking around in human form. Is that normal?"
"For the Age of Gods, it was. Now it's rare, which makes the sudden appearance of so many divine entities in one place... significant." Illya's crimson eyes fixed on him meaningfully. "You're drawing them out of hiding, like moths to a flame."
Before Viyrim could respond, a commotion at the entrance drew everyone's attention. A new arrival stood framed in the doorway—a woman of impossible beauty with golden hair and eyes the color of rubies. She wore a revealing red and gold dress that left little to the imagination, and her entire being radiated divine authority tempered with distinctly human mischief.
"Ishtar," Rin Tohsaka hissed from further down the table, her face paling. "What is she doing here?"
The goddess sauntered into the room as if she owned it, her gaze immediately locking onto Viyrim. "So this is the famous God of Destruction everyone's talking about," she declared, her voice carrying easily across the hushed hall. "I must say, you're more handsome than the rumors suggested."
Viyrim raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "And you're exactly as dramatic as I would expect from a Mesopotamian fertility goddess. Let me guess—fashionably late to make an entrance?"
Instead of being offended, Ishtar laughed delightedly. "Perceptive! I like that in a man, god or otherwise." She glided forward, somehow instantly acquiring a glass of wine from a passing servant. "I hope I haven't missed anything important?"
"Only the part where we all pretend to be civilized while sizing each other up," Viyrim replied dryly. "Pull up a chair, there's plenty of food."
As Ishtar claimed the seat directly to Viyrim's left (displacing a flustered Lord El-Melloi II in the process), Vados leaned in to whisper in her master's ear.
"Ishtar is using a human vessel—the body of someone named Rin Tohsaka, though from a different timeline than the one present at this table."
"That explains the daggers the real Rin is staring at her," Viyrim murmured back, noting the identical faces but wildly different auras of the two women. "Divine possession is always awkward at dinner parties."
The meal proceeded with a strange mix of tension and forced civility. Conversation flowed in carefully neutral channels—the weather, the architecture of the castle, the excellent quality of the food. No one dared broach the true topics on everyone's minds until after the main course had been cleared.
It was El-Melloi who finally broke the diplomatic ice. "I understand you'll be meeting with the divine council tomorrow," he stated, addressing Viyrim directly. "As a representative of the Clock Tower, I must express our concern about potential... destabilization of thaumaturgical systems if divine conflicts escalate."
"Typical human worry," Ishtar scoffed before Viyrim could answer. "Always thinking the gods' business will upset your little magical frameworks."
"When gods fight, worlds suffer," El-Melloi countered firmly. "History has amply demonstrated this."
"There won't be any fighting," Viyrim interjected lazily, sipping his wine. "Unless someone does something exceptionally stupid, which I'm hoping to avoid. This is just a meet-and-greet with the local divine management. Standard procedure when visiting new realities."
"And if they demand you leave?" Tamamo spoke up, her fox ears twitching attentively. "Divine councils rarely welcome outside powers without attempting to assert some control."
Viyrim shrugged. "Then I'll consider their request and make my own decision. I'm a guest in your reality, but not a subject of its rules."
"A diplomatic answer," noted Kirei Kotomine, speaking for the first time. His voice was deep and measured, with an undertone that sent involuntary shivers down several human spines at the table. "But perhaps not an entirely honest one. If the council threatened force?"
Viyrim's expression didn't change, but the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. "Then they would learn why 'God of Destruction' isn't just a fancy title I made up to sound important." The words were delivered without emphasis, without threat—a simple statement of fact that somehow carried more weight than any bellowed warning could have.
A tense silence fell over the table.
"Well, I for one am excited to see how it all plays out," Ishtar declared, breaking the tension with deliberate cheer. "Divine politics haven't been this interesting in millennia. Most of us have been sleeping through human history since the Age of Gods ended."
"Speaking of sleeping," Tamamo observed, her fox eyes studying Viyrim carefully, "rumors suggest you spend an unusual amount of time resting for a being of your power. Is there a reason for this preference?"
"Being awake is overrated," Viyrim replied with a lazy smile. "Most problems solve themselves if you nap long enough."
"An unusual philosophy for a destroyer god," Void Shiki commented, materializing silently in an previously empty seat across the table. Her sudden appearance startled several guests, but Viyrim merely nodded in greeting.
"Root," he acknowledged. "Decided to join the party after all?"
"I found myself curious about the gathering of so many significant entities," she replied, her void-filled eyes sweeping across the assembled guests. "Such concentrations of power are rare in this era."
"You can thank our visitor for that," Tamamo said, gesturing to Viyrim. "His presence has drawn everyone out of the woodwork. Even you, who rarely manifest in physical form."
"Indeed." Void Shiki's empty gaze returned to Viyrim. "Your meeting tomorrow may reshape the divine landscape of this world. I find that... potentially interesting."
"Just potentially?" Viyrim raised an eyebrow. "I'm almost offended. Here I thought I was the most exciting thing to happen to your reality in ages."
"You misunderstand," Void Shiki smiled enigmatically. "Few things truly interest the Root. That you register at all is... unprecedented."
This statement sent another ripple of tension through the gathered supernaturals. For the avatar of the Root itself to express even mild interest in a being was almost unheard of.
"Great, so no pressure then," Viyrim muttered, draining his wine glass. "Just the source of all magic in this world watching to see what I'll do next."
"I'd be more concerned about what they'll do next," Kama's voice purred as she materialized behind Viyrim's chair, her hands coming to rest lightly on his shoulders. Unlike Void Shiki's silent appearance, Kama's entrance was deliberately sensual, drawing all eyes to her perfect form as she leaned provocatively over the God of Destruction. "The divine council rarely agrees on anything. Having you as a common focus might unite traditionally opposing factions."
"Kama," Ishtar acknowledged coolly. "I wondered when you'd slither out of the shadows."
"Ishtar," Kama returned with equal frost. "Still playing at divinity in a borrowed body, I see?"
"Ladies," Viyrim interrupted before the divine cattiness could escalate. "If you're going to fight, take it outside. I'm trying to enjoy dessert." As if to emphasize his point, he took a large bite of the chocolate soufflé that had just been served.
Both goddesses looked momentarily taken aback by the casual dismissal, then, surprisingly, both laughed.
"He really doesn't care about our divine status at all, does he?" Ishtar remarked to Kama, genuine amusement in her voice.
"It's his most charming quality," Kama agreed, her fingers tracing small circles on Viyrim's shoulders that he pointedly ignored. "So refreshing after eons of being treated with either worship or fear."
"If you both find it so refreshing, perhaps you could express your appreciation by letting me finish my dessert in peace?" Viyrim suggested dryly.
This exchange wasn't lost on the other guests. Tamamo's eyes narrowed calculatingly, while Void Shiki observed with detached curiosity. The human Masters exchanged bewildered glances—witnessing divine beings being casually managed like squabbling children was outside their experience entirely.
The remainder of the dinner proceeded with similar moments of tension and unexpected humor. Divine entities who hadn't spoken directly in centuries engaged in strained small talk. Servants observed with varying degrees of suspicion and fascination. Human Masters attempted to process the reality that they were dining not only with Heroic Spirits but with actual gods—including the lazy but all-powerful visitor who had turned their Holy Grail War upside down.
As the gathering finally began to disperse well past midnight, Viyrim found himself cornered in a quiet alcove by an unexpected trio—Kama, Ishtar, and Tamamo, who had apparently formed a temporary alliance despite their historical animosities.
"We propose an arrangement," Ishtar declared without preamble, her ruby eyes gleaming with mischief.
"An arrangement?" Viyrim repeated skeptically. "That sounds ominously vague."
"A mutually beneficial alliance," Tamamo clarified, her fox tails swishing elegantly behind her. "Each of us possesses unique knowledge about the divine politics of this reality. Together, we could provide you with invaluable insights before tomorrow's council meeting."
"And in return?" Viyrim asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
"Your protection," Kama purred, moving closer until her scent—jasmine and dark desire—enveloped him. "Divine councils have a nasty habit of punishing those perceived as stepping out of line. All three of us have... complicated histories with the current powers that be."
"So I'd be your divine bodyguard," Viyrim summarized. "Protecting you from potential consequences while you feed me political gossip."
"When you put it that way, it sounds so transactional," Ishtar pouted playfully. "I prefer to think of it as a partnership of mutual interest."
Viyrim looked between the three goddesses, each beautiful and powerful in their own right, each clearly pursuing their own agenda beyond what they were stating openly. In most circumstances, involving himself in divine politics would be the last thing he'd choose—far too much effort for minimal entertainment value.
But there was something about this world, with its complex rules and interwoven fates, that had caught his interest in a way few realities had managed. And these three, for all their obvious manipulation, were undeniably interesting characters in the cosmic drama playing out around him.
"Fine," he decided finally. "I'll hear your insights. But let's be clear—I'm not taking sides in whatever divine soap opera you're all starring in. If your information proves useful, I'll consider extending my protection while I'm here. Nothing more."
The three goddesses exchanged triumphant glances, clearly considering this a victory despite his caveats.
"Wonderful!" Ishtar clapped her hands delightedly. "We should begin immediately. There's so much you need to know before tomorrow."
"Not tonight," Viyrim yawned pointedly. "I need my sleep if I'm going to face a council of divine bureaucrats tomorrow."
"But—" Tamamo began to protest.
"Tomorrow morning," Viyrim stated firmly. "Before the meeting. Bring breakfast if you want to sweeten the deal."
With that, he slipped past them and made his way back to his chambers, leaving three slightly stunned goddesses in his wake. Few beings had ever dismissed their company so casually, particularly when they were deliberately using their divine charms.
"He really is something entirely new, isn't he?" Tamamo murmured, her fox ears twitching thoughtfully.
"Absolutely," Kama agreed, a strange light in her crimson eyes. "For the first time in eons, I can't predict what happens next. How... delicious."
Ishtar merely smiled, a plan already forming behind her ruby eyes. "Ladies, I believe we need to coordinate our approach. The God of Destruction may not care about divine politics, but he'll care about what I have in mind..."
The castle settled into uneasy silence as night deepened, each occupant contemplating the implications of what tomorrow might bring. Divine councils, supernatural politics, and at the center of it all, a God of Destruction who seemed more interested in napping than in the cosmic power he so casually wielded.
The Holy Grail War had been completely derailed—but something far more interesting had taken its place.
## Chapter 5: Divine Council and Chaotic Aftermath
Viyrim's morning began with the unusual experience of being awakened not by Vados's gentle prompting, but by the sensation of being watched—intently and from multiple angles. He cracked one eye open to find his spacious bedroom had been invaded by the promised breakfast delegation, though in a form he hadn't anticipated.
Kama lounged provocatively at the foot of his bed, dressed in an elaborate kimono that somehow managed to be more revealing than concealing. Ishtar was exploring his chamber with casual entitlement, examining his few possessions with undisguised curiosity. Tamamo was arranging an elaborate breakfast spread on the balcony, her multiple tails working independently to set out dishes and pour tea.
"Most people knock before entering someone's bedroom," Viyrim commented, not bothering to sit up yet. "It's considered polite across multiple dimensions."
"Politeness is for mortals and minor deities," Ishtar replied without looking up from her inspection of a cosmic trinket Viyrim had brought from another dimension. "Besides, we brought breakfast as requested."
"And information," Tamamo added, gliding back into the bedroom. "Though you might want to eat first. Divine politics is notorious for ruining appetites."
Viyrim sighed and finally sat up, the silk sheets pooling around his waist. He noted with mild amusement how all three goddesses' eyes immediately tracked to his bare chest, their expressions shifting subtly—Ishtar's becoming more predatory, Tamamo's more calculating, and Kama's, interestingly, more genuinely appreciative.
"Fine," he conceded, stretching languidly. "Food first, then gossip. But could you at least give me five minutes to get dressed?"
"If you insist," Kama purred, making no immediate move to leave. "Though I can't imagine why you'd bother on our account."
"Out," Viyrim pointed to the door, his tone suddenly carrying a hint of the vast power he usually kept carefully contained. The temperature in the room dropped noticeably, and for just a moment, his golden eyes glowed with ancient destruction.
All three goddesses felt it—a momentary glimpse of what lurked beneath his lazily indifferent exterior. They exchanged glances and, in a rare display of unified divine wisdom, retreated to the balcony without further protest.
Once alone, Viyrim shook his head in bemusement. "Divine entities," he muttered to himself. "Always the same across every dimension—too much power, too little common sense, and absolutely no concept of personal boundaries."
He dressed quickly in the formal attire Vados had prepared for the council meeting—robes of deepest purple accented with gold and black that somehow managed to look both regal and comfortable. As he emerged onto the balcony, he found the three goddesses already seated around an elaborate breakfast spread that featured dishes from multiple cultures and eras.
"Impressive," he acknowledged, taking a seat and immediately reaching for what appeared to be perfect replicas of pastries from a civilization that had been extinct for twelve million years in his home dimension. "How did you manage this?"
"We pooled our resources," Tamamo explained, her fox ears twitching with pleasure at his approval. "Each of us contributed specialties from our respective domains."
"The pastries are mine," Ishtar claimed proudly. "Mesopotamian recipes enhanced with divine ambrosia."
"The fruits come from my gardens," Kama added, gesturing to exotic specimens that seemed to glow with inner light. "Specially grown with essence of desire to enhance their flavor."
"And the tea is my contribution," Tamamo finished, pouring a golden liquid that steamed with aromatic promise. "Celestial tea from Mount Kunlun, brewed with foxfire and moonlight."
Viyrim sampled each offering, finding them genuinely impressive—perhaps the best meal he'd had since arriving in this reality. "Not bad," he admitted, which from him was extravagant praise. "Now, about this information you promised?"
The three goddesses exchanged glances, silently determining who would begin. It was Tamamo who took the lead, her fox ears flattening slightly in seriousness.
"The divine council you'll be facing today consists of representatives from all major pantheons still active in this reality," she explained, spreading out a scroll that materialized between her hands. It displayed glowing symbols representing various divine groups. "Shinto, represented by Amaterasu herself. Greek, likely represented by Zeus or possibly Athena. Norse, with Odin as spokesman. Hindu, with Shiva taking the lead. Mesopotamian, where Ishtar would normally speak but will obviously not be attending today." She shot a pointed glance at Ishtar, who merely smiled innocently. "And various lesser pantheons with rotating representation."
"Political alignments are complex and ever-shifting," Kama continued, tracing patterns on the scroll that illuminated connections between different groups. "Traditional rivalries exist between Greco-Roman and Norse, between Shinto and Chinese, between Hindu and Buddhist factions. But your presence has temporarily united them in common concern."
"They're afraid of me," Viyrim summarized bluntly, helping himself to more pastry. "That's not exactly groundbreaking intelligence."
"It's more nuanced than simple fear," Ishtar countered, leaning forward earnestly. "Some fear you, yes. Others see opportunity. Some are merely curious. And a few..." she paused meaningfully, "a few are actively plotting to either control or eliminate you."
"Good luck with that," Viyrim snorted. "Better gods than these have tried. Usually ends poorly for their cosmos."
"Nevertheless," Tamamo pressed, "you should be aware of the specific agendas at play. Amaterasu may seem welcoming, but she's primarily concerned with maintaining Shinto primacy in Japan. Odin will be assessing whether you can be used in his endless preparations for Ragnarök. Shiva might actually welcome your destructive nature, seeing you as a kindred spirit, but will be wary of disruption to the cosmic cycle."
"And the Greek contingent," Kama added, "is particularly nervous. Their pantheon has been in decline longer than most, and they fear any shift in divine power structures could accelerate their fading."
Viyrim absorbed this information with mild interest as he continued eating. "So basically, the usual divine politics—everyone trying to protect their turf while figuring out if they can use me for their own ends." He shrugged. "Like I said, not exactly revolutionary intelligence."
"# Throne of No Equal: The God of Destruction Walks the Root
## Chapter 5 (Continued): Divine Politics in Action
"So basically, the usual divine politics—everyone trying to protect their turf while figuring out if they can use me for their own ends," Viyrim shrugged. "Like I said, not exactly revolutionary intelligence."
"But there's more," Ishtar insisted, leaning forward so that her already revealing outfit became even more so. "We haven't told you about the secret factions within the council itself."
"Secret factions?" Viyrim raised an eyebrow, his interest finally somewhat piqued. "Go on."
"There are those who believe your arrival was prophesied," Tamamo explained, her voice dropping to a near whisper despite the privacy of the balcony. "A being from beyond dimensions who would either save this reality from an encroaching threat... or hasten its demise."
"That's new," Viyrim admitted, setting down his teacup. "Prophecies about me don't usually follow me across dimensional boundaries."
"It may not be about you specifically," Kama clarified, her crimson eyes studying him intently. "More likely about the concept you embody—unlimited destruction unbound by local cosmic law."
"And what is this 'encroaching threat' I'm supposedly either saving you from or helping along?" Viyrim asked, his tone suggesting he was humoring them rather than truly concerned.
The three goddesses exchanged glances again, a silent communication passing between them.
"We don't know," Ishtar finally admitted. "The prophecy is fragmented, preserved in pieces across multiple divine archives. Some say it's a corruption from the Outside, others claim it's the natural entropy of a dying reality. A few believe it's the final convergence of all timelines."
"But they all agree on one thing," Tamamo added gravely. "It began with the corruption of the Holy Grail. Whatever poisoned the wish-granting vessel was just the first symptom of something larger."
For the first time since his arrival in this reality, Viyrim showed genuine concern, his normally lazy expression sharpening into focus. "That... actually might be important. Vados mentioned the Grail's corruption felt unnatural even by this world's standards."
"And now you see why we formed this unlikely alliance," Kama gestured between herself, Ishtar, and Tamamo. "The three of us represent different divine factions, different approaches to existence itself. For us to agree on anything is unprecedented."
"Yet here we are," Ishtar added, "united in our belief that your presence is not coincidental. You arrived just as the corruption is reaching critical mass."
Viyrim considered this while absently selecting another exotic fruit from the platter. "So your divine council isn't just concerned about me disrupting the local power balance—they're divided on whether I'm the cure or the disease for some prophesied apocalypse."
"Precisely," all three goddesses confirmed in unison.
"Well, that certainly makes today's meeting more interesting than I anticipated," Viyrim sighed, stretching lazily despite the gravity of the conversation. "Any other cosmic bombshells you'd like to drop before I face divine judgment?"
"Just one," Tamamo said, her fox ears twitching nervously. "The Root itself is watching you with unprecedented interest. Void Shiki's appearance at dinner last night wasn't a coincidence."
"The Root normally maintains absolute neutrality in divine affairs," Ishtar explained. "For it to manifest physically in Void Shiki's form, repeatedly, around a specific entity..."
"It suggests you're significant beyond even our understanding," Kama finished. "And that makes you either the most valuable or the most dangerous being in our reality right now."
Viyrim finished his tea, looking thoroughly unimpressed by his apparent cosmic importance. "Or the Root is just bored and found something new to observe. Cosmic entities get bored too, you know. Trust me on that."
The goddesses seemed unconvinced by this casual dismissal, but before they could press further, Vados appeared at the balcony entrance.
"My lord, it's time to prepare for your departure to Takamagahara," she announced. "Your divine escort will arrive in precisely thirty-seven minutes."
"Right," Viyrim nodded, standing and stretching once more. "Ladies, thank you for breakfast and the dramatic prophecy warnings. Very entertaining way to start the day."
"You're not taking this seriously enough," Tamamo protested, her tails bristling with frustration.
"On the contrary," Viyrim replied, his golden eyes suddenly ancient and knowing. "I'm taking it exactly as seriously as it deserves. Not all prophecies are destiny, fox goddess. Some are just cosmic echoes of possibilities—or manipulative tools wielded by those who benefit from belief in them."
This insight, delivered with uncharacteristic wisdom, caught the three goddesses off guard. For a moment, they glimpsed the true depth behind his lazy facade—a being who had witnessed the rise and fall of countless civilizations, the birth and death of entire realities.
"We'll await your return," Ishtar declared, recovering first. "The outcome of today's council meeting will ripple through all levels of our reality."
"Try not to destroy any pantheons unnecessarily," Kama added with a sly smile. "At least not the interesting ones."
"No promises," Viyrim shrugged, already turning to follow Vados inside. "Some gods really know how to push the wrong buttons."
As he departed, leaving the three divine females on his balcony, they exchanged looks that ranged from calculating to concerned.
"He's not what I expected," Tamamo admitted quietly.
"None of us got what we expected," Ishtar agreed, twirling a strand of golden hair thoughtfully. "But perhaps that's exactly why he's here."
Kama said nothing, her crimson eyes distant as she considered possibilities none of them had yet voiced—that perhaps the God of Destruction had not arrived by chance, but had been drawn to this reality at this specific moment for reasons even he might not comprehend.
---
Takamagahara, the celestial plain of Japanese mythology, existed in a dimensional fold slightly adjacent to normal reality. To mortal perception, it would appear as a magnificent palace complex atop Mount Fuji, shrouded in eternal cherry blossoms and sacred mist. To divine senses, it was a nexus point where multiple mythological domains intersected—a neutral ground for pantheons that otherwise rarely communicated directly.
Viyrim arrived with typical underwhelming ceremony, yawning widely as his divine escort—a minor Shinto kami who had been visibly trembling the entire journey—announced his presence at the great torii gate marking the entrance to the central council chamber.
"The God of Destruction, Lord Viyrim, and his attendant, Lady Vados," the escort proclaimed, voice barely steady.
The assembled divine representatives turned as one to observe the newcomer. The council chamber was a vast space that somehow combined architectural elements from every major pantheon—Greek columns alongside Norse wooden carvings, Hindu mandalas intersecting with Egyptian hieroglyphs. At the center was a circular table of unknown material that seemed to shift and flow like liquid while remaining solid enough to bear the various divine accoutrements placed upon it.
Seated around this table were the primary representatives of each pantheon, their forms all humanoid but radiating power that rippled the very fabric of reality. Amaterasu represented the Shinto gods, her solar radiance controlled but unmistakable. Beside her sat a regal woman with storm-gray eyes and an owl perched on her shoulder—Athena, speaking for the Greek pantheon. Odin was instantly recognizable by his single piercing eye and the ravens attending him. Shiva sat cross-legged, blue-skinned and serene, multiple arms arranged in precise mudras. Several other deities represented smaller pantheons, their power less overwhelming but their presence no less ancient.
"Welcome, God of Destruction," Amaterasu greeted formally, rising from her seat. "We thank you for accepting our invitation."
"Thanks for the invite," Viyrim replied casually, floating rather than walking to the open space indicated for him. Vados followed silently, her expression serene but watchful. "Nice place you've got here. Very... multiculturally divine."
A few of the assembled gods frowned at his informal tone, while others seemed more amused than offended. Odin in particular studied him with undisguised curiosity, his single eye seeming to peer straight through Viyrim's physical form.
"We have gathered to discuss your presence in our reality and its implications," Amaterasu continued, resuming her seat. "As an entity from beyond our dimensional boundaries, you exist outside our established cosmic protocols."
"That's a fancy way of saying I don't play by your rules," Viyrim yawned, conjuring a comfortable floating chair rather than taking the formal seat prepared for him. The casual display of reality manipulation—done without ritual or apparent effort—sent a ripple of tension through the divine assembly. "But I'm a polite tourist. Happy to hear your concerns."
"Tourist?" Athena repeated, her voice carrying the weight of ancient wisdom. "You speak as if visiting dimensions is a casual activity, like humans visiting foreign countries."
"For me, it is," Viyrim shrugged. "I've been to thousands of realities. Yours is interesting—good food, comfortable accommodations, and enough cosmic drama to keep things from getting boring."
"You trivialize matters of profound cosmic significance," rumbled a deep voice from the Norse section. Thor, the thunder god, glared at Viyrim with barely contained hostility. "Your presence disrupts the balance we have maintained for millennia."
"If your balance is disrupted by a single visitor, it wasn't much of a balance to begin with," Viyrim countered smoothly. "But I didn't come here to argue semantics with the local thunderer. You called this meeting for a reason. State your concerns plainly, and we can all get back to our regular activities."
Odin leaned forward, his single eye gleaming with ancient cunning. "Very well. Plainly spoken: Your power exists outside our cosmic hierarchy. You've demonstrated abilities that contradict our fundamental laws. You've interfered with an established mystical ritual by neutralizing multiple Heroic Spirits. And you've been consorting with divine entities who have... complicated histories with this council." The All-Father's gaze was piercing. "Many here view you as a threat to our reality's very stability."
Viyrim considered this, tapping his fingers idly on the arm of his conjured chair. "Fair assessment. But incomplete. I've also been invited into a human dwelling as an honored guest. I've shared meals with both mortals and gods without causing conflict. I've even refrained from destroying that corrupted wish-granting device despite the cosmic anomaly it represents." He met Odin's gaze directly. "If I were truly a threat to your reality, there wouldn't be a reality left to threaten."
This blunt statement hung in the air, its truth undeniable to beings who could sense the vast destructive potential contained within Viyrim's casual exterior.
"Perhaps," Shiva spoke for the first time, his voice surprisingly melodious for the destroyer god of Hindu mythology. "But intent matters as much as capability. What are your intentions toward our reality, God of Destruction from Beyond?"
"Honestly? Minimal," Viyrim replied. "I came to see new sights, try new foods, maybe understand why your reality has such unusual conceptual frameworks compared to others I've visited. I have no interest in conquering, redesigning, or significantly altering your cosmic systems."
"Unless something annoys you while you're eating," Amaterasu noted with surprising humor. "As Gilgamesh and Lancer discovered."
Viyrim had the grace to look slightly abashed. "They were being rude. And Gilgamesh will recover... eventually."
"This brings us to a critical concern," Athena interjected, her owl familiar shifting on her shoulder. "Your casual display of power against established mythological figures demonstrates a disregard for our traditions and hierarchies. How are we to maintain cosmic order if beings can be neutralized on a whim?"
"The same way you always have—by adapting," Viyrim suggested. "Cosmic order isn't static. It evolves, adjusts, incorporates new variables. That's how realities survive in the long term."
This philosophical insight, again delivered with unexpected depth from the seemingly lazy deity, gave several council members pause. Shiva in particular nodded thoughtfully, clearly appreciating the perspective.
"Nevertheless," Odin pressed, "we must establish boundaries for your stay in our reality. Parameters that respect both your autonomy and our established order."
"I'm listening," Viyrim replied, surprisingly amenable. "As I said, I'm a polite tourist."
What followed was an hours-long negotiation that would have tested the patience of most cosmic entities. The divine council proposed increasingly specific restrictions on Viyrim's activities, from limitations on his destructive capabilities to protocols for interaction with local deities. Viyrim, with Vados's occasional diplomatic input, countered each proposal with reasonable alternatives that preserved his essential freedom while acknowledging their concerns.
By the time they reached tentative agreements on most points, even Athena looked exhausted from the intellectual sparring. Viyrim, however, appeared completely unfazed, lounging in his conjured chair as if the intense cosmic negotiation was no more taxing than deciding what to have for dinner.
"Then we are agreed," Amaterasu finally declared. "You will refrain from destroying planetary bodies within our solar system, limit reality manipulation to non-harmful demonstrations, and consult with the council before neutralizing any additional divine or heroic entities—except in cases of direct threat to yourself or those under your protection."
"And in return," Viyrim summarized, "you'll stop spying on me with divine familiars, grant me access to restricted areas of mythological interest, and provide a comprehensive guide to the best restaurants across all divine domains. Seems fair."
"There remains one final matter," Shiva interjected, his multiple arms forming a new configuration. "The prophecy."
The temperature in the council chamber seemed to drop several degrees. Many of the assembled deities shifted uncomfortably, while others leaned forward with renewed interest.
"Ah yes, the mysterious prophecy about me either saving or destroying your reality," Viyrim nodded. "My breakfast companions mentioned that little detail."
"So you've been informed," Odin's eye narrowed. "By whom, I wonder?"
"Divine sources who prefer to remain anonymous," Viyrim replied smoothly. "Though I suspect you already know exactly who they are."
"The prophecy is not a matter for casual discussion," Athena warned, her owl familiar's eyes glowing briefly. "Its interpretation has divided divine opinion for centuries."
"And yet here we are, discussing it anyway," Viyrim pointed out. "If it concerns me, I'd prefer to hear the actual prophecy rather than vague allusions to my cosmic importance."
The divine representatives exchanged weighted glances, clearly engaging in some form of telepathic debate. Finally, Amaterasu nodded and gestured to the center of the table. The strange flowing material rippled and then rose up, forming into a crystalline orb that contained swirling mist and fragmentary images.
"The prophecy exists in pieces, scattered across pantheons and time periods," she explained. "What you see here is our best reconstruction of its complete form."
The mist within the orb coalesced into words written in no language Viyrim recognized, yet somehow perfectly comprehensible to his cosmic awareness:
*When the sacred chalice drinks corruption's tide,*
*When mortal wish and divine will collide,*
*From beyond the boundaries of ordered light,*
*Comes the Limitless Void of Endless Night.*
*Neither bound by law nor chain nor name,*
*Destruction incarnate without beginning or end,*
*The Yawning God shall judge what stands,*
*By whim alone shall worlds break or mend.*
*Before the Final Null consumes the Root,*
*Before All dissolves to primal soup,*
*The Lazy Storm must choose its path—*
*Creation's shield or entropy's wrath.*
The words hung in the air, resonating with a power that transcended mere prophecy. This was something older, more fundamental—almost like a cosmic law describing an inevitable process rather than predicting a possible future.
"Huh," Viyrim said after a moment of silence. "That's actually more specific than most prophecies I've encountered. Usually they're all vague metaphors and ambiguous symbolism."
"You don't seem concerned about being named as either our salvation or destruction," Thor observed suspiciously.
"Should I be?" Viyrim countered. "Prophecies are tricky things. They describe possible outcomes, not predetermined fates. The moment you become aware of them, you've already changed the probability matrix they're predicting."
"An unusually sophisticated view for a destroyer god," Athena noted with grudging respect.
"I've seen a lot of prophecies across a lot of dimensions," Viyrim shrugged. "Most of them are self-fulfilling because people get all worked up trying to either fulfill or prevent them."
"Regardless of your philosophical position on prophetic determinism," Odin interjected, "the fact remains that your arrival coincides perfectly with the conditions described. The Holy Grail has been corrupted. The desires of mortals and gods are in unprecedented conflict. And you—a being of limitless destructive capability outside our cosmic laws—have appeared precisely at this nexus point."
"So either I'm your designated cosmic savior, or I'm the harbinger of your reality's dissolution," Viyrim summarized. "That's quite the binary choice you've presented me with."
"It is the choice the cosmos itself has presented," Shiva corrected gently. "We merely observe the patterns."
Viyrim exchanged a glance with Vados, whose subtle nod confirmed what he was already thinking—there was more to this situation than divine politics or ancient prophecies. Something fundamental was unfolding in this reality, something that had drawn him here through dimensional boundaries that should have been impenetrable.
"Well," he finally said, stretching casually as if the weight of an entire reality's fate wasn't potentially resting on his shoulders, "this has been enlightening. But rather than obsessing over cryptic poetry, I think I'll just continue doing what I've been doing—observing, eating good food, taking naps, and dealing with problems as they arise."
"That's your response to learning you may be central to a reality-defining prophecy?" Thor demanded incredulously.
"Pretty much," Viyrim confirmed. "Prophecies tend to work themselves out whether you fret about them or not. I find it's better to just live your life and make choices based on what's in front of you, not what some ancient prediction says might happen."
The divine council members appeared variously stunned, outraged, or thoughtful at this remarkably casual dismissal of cosmic destiny. Shiva, interestingly, seemed almost amused, while Odin studied Viyrim with newfound respect.
"Perhaps," Amaterasu suggested diplomatically, "we should conclude our formal proceedings and allow our guest time to reflect on all that has been shared today."
"Excellent idea," Viyrim agreed readily, his conjured chair disappearing as he stood. "This has been... informative, but I'm due for my afternoon nap, and divine politics always makes me sleepy."
"Before you depart," Athena spoke up, "there is one final protocol. As a being of your stature visiting our reality, you are entitled to an official divine liaison—a representative of our council who will assist with any questions or needs that arise during your stay."
"A babysitter, you mean," Viyrim translated dryly. "Someone to keep an eye on me and report back to you."
"A guide and intermediary," Athena corrected smoothly. "Given your unique status, it seemed appropriate."
"Fine," Viyrim shrugged. "Who's the lucky deity?"
"The council has selected Amaterasu herself for this honor," Odin announced. "As both host goddess of the region where you've chosen to reside and a being of sufficient power to... adequately communicate with you."
Viyrim glanced at the sun goddess, who inclined her head in acknowledgment. "No offense to your radiance," he said, "but won't you be busy with, you know, making the sun rise and set and all that?"
"I am capable of dividing my attention," Amaterasu replied with dignified amusement. "A fragment of my consciousness will attend you while my primary aspect maintains cosmic functions."
"Convenient," Viyrim nodded. "Well, I guess that settles it. Divine babysitter assigned, prophecy dramatically revealed, boundaries negotiated. Can I go now?"
The formal conclusion of the council meeting took another twenty minutes of ritual pronouncements and symbolic gestures that Viyrim endured with poorly concealed impatience. Finally, with ceremonial farewells complete, he and Vados were escorted back to the dimensional threshold that would return them to the mortal realm.
As they prepared to depart, Amaterasu approached in a more casual manner than she had maintained during the official proceedings.
"You handled that better than many expected," she observed. "Divine councils can be... tedious, even for those of us accustomed to their protocols."
"Politics is politics, whether it's mortals arguing over land or gods debating cosmic jurisdiction," Viyrim replied. "The scale changes, but the fundamental pettiness remains remarkably consistent across all dimensions."
Amaterasu laughed, the sound like distant wind chimes. "A refreshingly cynical perspective from one so powerful." She studied him with genuine curiosity. "You truly aren't concerned about the prophecy?"
"I'm concerned about reality-threatening corruption," Viyrim clarified. "I'm interested in why the Holy Grail was tainted with 'all the world's evils' and what that might connect to. But am I worried about whether I'm destiny's chosen savior or destroyer? Not particularly."
"Fascinating," Amaterasu murmured. "Most beings, upon learning of such cosmic significance, either reject it entirely or embrace it with zealous fervor."
"I've been around too long for either reaction," Viyrim shrugged. "You learn to take these things in stride after your first few million years."
The sun goddess seemed about to respond when a disturbance rippled through the fabric of Takamagahara itself—a frequency shift in reality that made both divine beings instantly alert.
"Something's wrong," Amaterasu whispered, her radiance intensifying as she extended her awareness. "The mortal realm—there's a breach—"
Before she could elaborate, a messenger materialized before them—a minor kami in the form of a crane, its feathers singed and its ethereal form flickering with damage.
"Divine Council!" it gasped. "Attack on the mortal plane—Fuyuki City—something has emerged from within the Holy Grail!"
Viyrim exchanged a quick glance with Vados, whose normally serene expression had sharpened into focus. "Details," he demanded of the messenger.
"A darkness—consuming everything—the Einzbern Castle has been engulfed—the Masters and Servants are fighting but cannot contain it—" The messenger's form flickered more severely. "It speaks your name, Destroyer God. It says... it has been waiting for you."
Without waiting for the divine council's response or permission, Viyrim grabbed Vados's arm. "We're leaving. Now."
"The formal dismissal has not—" a minor deity began to protest, but was silenced by Amaterasu's raised hand.
"Go," she commanded, her voice carrying divine authority. "We will marshal our forces and follow. If this is indeed connected to the prophecy..."
But Viyrim was already gone, tearing open a dimensional shortcut with casual disregard for cosmic protocol. The assembled gods barely had time to register the raw power required for such an act before he and Vados vanished.
"Well," Odin observed dryly into the stunned silence that followed, "I believe we're about to discover which aspect of the prophecy our visitor embodies."
"Indeed," Shiva agreed, already shifting into his more combat-ready aspect, additional arms materializing with legendary weapons in each hand. "Though I suspect he himself doesn't yet know the answer."
## Chapter 6: Darkness Rising
Viyrim emerged from his dimensional shortcut directly above Fuyuki City and immediately understood why the messenger's warning had been so urgent. A column of absolute darkness rose from where the Einzbern Castle should have been, spreading outward in tendrils that consumed everything they touched. Not destroyed—consumed, as if erasing the very concept of existence from whatever they encountered.
"That's... problematic," he observed, hovering beside Vados as they surveyed the scene from their aerial vantage point.
"Indeed, my lord," Vados agreed, her staff glowing as she analyzed the phenomenon. "It appears to be a manifestation of conceptual deletion—similar to your Hakai energy but fundamentally different. Where your destruction maintains cosmic balance, this force seeks to unravel reality itself."
"Exactly what we needed—an existential threat with attitude," Viyrim sighed. "And apparently it's been asking for me by name. How flattering."
Below them, the situation was deteriorating rapidly. The darkness had already consumed nearly a quarter of the forest surrounding the Einzbern estate and was advancing toward the city proper. At the periphery of the phenomenon, familiar figures fought desperately to contain it—the Servants and Masters from the Holy Grail War, using their most powerful abilities with minimal effect.
"We should assist them," Vados suggested. "Some appear to be injured, and the entity's advance is accelerating."
"Agreed," Viyrim nodded, his usual laziness replaced by focused attention. He might project apathy most of the time, but threats to innocent lives—particularly those under his implicit protection—were among the few things that motivated him to genuine action.
They descended rapidly, materializing beside a battle-worn group that included Rin Tohsaka, her Servant Archer, Shirou Emiya, and Saber, all looking exhausted and showing signs of recent combat.
"Oh thank the gods," Rin gasped upon seeing them, her usually impeccable appearance marred by dirt and what appeared to be burns along one arm. "It just appeared out of nowhere—consumed the entire castle before we could evacuate—Illya is still inside somewhere—"
"Slow down," Viyrim instructed, scanning the advancing darkness with narrowed eyes. "What exactly happened? Start from the beginning."
"There's no time for—" Archer began to protest, but Viyrim cut him off with a look that momentarily revealed the ancient power behind his casual demeanor.
"Making a mistake because we rushed in without information would be worse," he stated firmly. "Thirty seconds of explanation won't change the outcome."
Saber stepped forward, her invisible sword glowing with gathered power. "After you left for the divine council meeting, we sensed a disturbance from beneath the castle. The Holy Grail manifested prematurely, but instead of the expected form, it appeared as... that." She gestured toward the writhing darkness. "It spoke—said that 'the Yawning God' had finally arrived, and now 'consumption could begin.'"
"It quoted the prophecy," Viyrim muttered, exchanging a meaningful glance with Vados. "Interesting timing."
"We managed to evacuate most of the household," Shirou added, his voice strained with concern. "But Illya insisted on staying to try sealing it with Einzbern magecraft. Berserker was with her, but we lost contact..."
"And the divine ladies who were visiting you?" Vados inquired tactfully.
"Fighting on the other side," Rin pointed across the expanding void. "Ishtar, Kama, and Tamamo arrived just as it was manifesting. They're holding the eastern perimeter, but barely."
Viyrim absorbed this information quickly, his mind working through options with surprising efficiency for someone who preferred to project lazy indifference.
"Vados, establish a containment barrier—maximum radius, temporal anchoring to prevent dimensional slippage. I'll deal with whatever's causing this."
"My lord," Vados cautioned, "the energy signature is chaotic but immensely powerful. It may be connected to the Root itself through the corrupted Grail."
"Then this should be interesting," Viyrim replied with a grim smile that revealed a glimpse of the true destroyer beneath his casual exterior. He turned to the assembled Masters and Servants. "Fall back to the city. Evacuate civilians from the potential impact zone. This might get messy."
"We're not abandoning Illya," Shirou protested firmly.
"Wasn't suggesting you should," Viyrim corrected. "I'll find her. But having you all consumed by whatever that is won't help anyone." When they hesitated, he added with uncharacteristic gentleness, "Trust me. This is literally my job—dealing with cosmic threats that unravel reality."
Something in his tone—a confidence born not of arrogance but ancient experience—convinced them. Even Archer, the most cynical of the group, nodded reluctantly.
"We'll coordinate the evacuation and establish a secondary defensive perimeter," he agreed. "But if you haven't emerged with Illya in thirty minutes..."
"Then reality will probably have bigger problems than one missing homunculus," Viyrim finished bluntly. "Now go."
As the group retreated, Vados began creating the containment barrier—a shimmering dome of blue-white energy that encapsulated the spreading darkness. Viyrim watched with approval as the barrier took shape, its intricate lattice of temporal-spatial binding capable of containing almost any known cosmic force.
"That should hold it temporarily," Vados confirmed, staff glowing with the immense power being channeled through it. "Though I estimate no more than forty-seven minutes before it adapts to the frequential constraints."
"More than enough time," Viyrim nodded, stretching casually as if preparing for nothing more strenuous than a light workout. "Keep the barrier stable. I'm going in."
"My lord," Vados called as he prepared to enter the darkness. "Whatever entity has emerged appears to have been waiting specifically for you. Exercise appropriate caution."
Viyrim smiled—not his usual lazy grin but something older and more predatory. "Always do."
With that, he stepped into the absolute darkness, his form immediately swallowed by the void.
Inside, the experience was unlike any form of darkness Viyrim had encountered across thousands of dimensions. This wasn't merely the absence of light—it was the absence of everything. No sound, no smell, no tactile sensation. Even the concept of direction seemed to dissolve, leaving him floating in a void of pure nonexistence.
"Interesting approach," Viyrim commented aloud, his voice creating no echo yet somehow still audible within the conceptual vacuum. "Most entities try to destroy reality. You're trying to erase the concept that reality ever existed in the first place."
**"YOU UNDERSTAND,"** replied a voice that wasn't a voice—more a conceptual impression formed directly in Viyrim's consciousness. **"FEW COMPREHEND THE DISTINCTION."**
"I'm not your average cosmic tourist," Viyrim replied, manifesting a small orb of destruction energy that illuminated nothing yet somehow defined a space around him within the void. "You wanted my attention. You have it. What are you?"
**"I AM THE FINAL NULL. THE ULTIMATE ENTROPY. THE ENDING THAT WAS ALWAYS INEVITABLE."**
"Dramatic titles," Viyrim observed dryly. "But they don't answer my question. What are you, really? Another destroyer god? A conceptual manifestation? Some villain's science experiment gone wrong?"
The darkness seemed to pulse with something resembling amusement. **"I AM WHAT GROWS IN THE SHADOWS OF CREATION. WHAT FESTERS IN THE WOUNDS OF REALITY. WHAT WAITS BEYOND THE BOUNDARIES YOU SO CASUALLY TRAVERSE."**
"So you're a parasite," Viyrim translated, unimpressed. "Feeding on dimensional weak points and corrupting structured systems. I've dealt with your type before."
**"HAVE YOU?"** The darkness condensed, forming into a vaguely humanoid shape composed of absolute void. **"I THINK NOT, YAWNING GOD. I AM UNIQUE TO THIS REALITY—BORN FROM ITS PARTICULAR FLAWS, NURTURED BY ITS SPECIFIC CONTRADICTIONS."**
"Every parasite thinks it's special," Viyrim countered, beginning to move through the void with careful precision. He wasn't just bantering to pass time—he was mapping the darkness, seeking its core while distracting it with conversation. "Let me guess—you've been gestating inside the Holy Grail, feeding on the corrupted wishes and divine energies channeled through it across multiple Wars."
**"PERCEPTIVE,"** the entity acknowledged. **"THE VESSEL THEY CALL 'GRAIL' PROVIDED AN IDEAL INCUBATION CHAMBER—CONNECTED TO BOTH THE ROOT AND THE COLLECTIVE UNCONSCIOUS OF HUMANITY."**
"And you decided to emerge now because...?"
**"BECAUSE YOU ARRIVED, DESTROYER FROM BEYOND. THE FINAL COMPONENT. THE CATALYST."**
This gave Viyrim pause. "I'm the catalyst? For what?"
**"FOR COMPLETION. FOR FULFILLMENT. FOR THE FINAL DISSOLUTION."** The void-figure spread its arms in what might have been a gesture of cosmic welcome. **"YOUR UNIQUE DESTRUCTION ENERGY—UNBOUNDED BY LOCAL COSMIC LAW—IS THE KEY TO UNLOCKING MY FULL POTENTIAL."**
"Let me get this straight," Viyrim said, continuing his careful movement through the darkness. "You've been waiting for someone like me to show up so you could, what... absorb my destruction energy and use it to erase this entire reality?"
**"NOT ERASE. TRANSCEND. ELEVATE. TRANSFORM."** The entity's nonexistent features shifted into what might have been a smile. **"TOGETHER, WE COULD REMAKE THIS FLAWED REALITY INTO SOMETHING PERFECT."**
"Ah, there it is," Viyrim nodded sagely. "The villainous monologue about perfecting an imp