Chapter One

I sat upon an ornate chair carved from wood so ancient it predated the concept of time itself. Each tap of my fingers against the armrest echoed through the chamber—a rhythmic percussion that marked the passage of moments in a place where moments had no meaning. The wood beneath my touch was warm, almost alive, its grain swirling with patterns that shifted when I wasn't looking directly at them.

The air tasted of ozone and something older—the metallic tang of possibility itself, sharp on the tongue like copper and starlight. Incense smoke coiled through the dim space, carrying scents of sandalwood and something acrid that made the back of my throat tighten.

I knew they would come. The question wasn't if, but when—and would they arrive separately, allowing me to manipulate each conversation, or simultaneously, forcing me to orchestrate chaos, order, and balance all at once?

My fingers continued their rhythm. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Each digit touching ancient wood in sequence, marking time in a place beyond time.

My sapphire eyes—a choice I'd made eons ago for reasons I could no longer remember—sparked with anticipation when the temperature in the room plummeted. Frost crept across the stone floor with an audible crack, and my breath suddenly misted in the air.

A dark shadow poured into my chamber like smoke given terrible purpose.

Apocalyptica.

The embodiment of entropy itself. The heat leached from my skin as she materialized, and the edges of my lips curled in recognition.

"Grandmother," I said, tasting the word—testing it. "I see you couldn't ignore the irresistible pull of…"

I paused, letting silence fill the space between us. The incense smoke twisted away from her presence as if repelled.

"Evolution."

Her movements were liquid grace, unnaturally smooth, as if the very laws of physics recoiled from her frame. She appeared old but regal, her skin pale as moonlight on water. Eyeshadow shimmered across her lids in colors that hurt to perceive directly—deep purples bleeding into blacks that weren't quite black, shifting like oil slicks in torchlight.

Her eyes were impossible. Deep green at the edges, bleeding to crimson at the center, with pupils that expanded and contracted independent of the light. When she looked at me, I felt the weight of her gaze like pressure against my chest.

She gestured, and a chair formed from shadow itself—solid, real, smelling of burnt earth and something sweet like rotting flowers. She sat with the casual grace of an apex predator that had never known fear.

"Well, my little one." Her voice was silk over gravel, smooth and rough simultaneously. "You have my interest. Choose your words carefully. Presence doesn't mean understanding."

Perfect.

I leaned forward, my black hair falling across my shoulders like a curtain. The torchlight caught the sapphire in my eyes, making them glow. "Your children"—I gestured broadly, referring to the forces of destruction and chaos—"go around mindlessly destroying, but..."

I paused, letting anticipation build. The chamber was so quiet I could hear the pop and hiss of the torches on the walls.

"What if... what if I could offer you something far more entertaining and well... satisfying? My Queen."

Her head tilted, black hair shifting like smoke caught in a draft. The movement released a scent—ash and iron and something floral that was almost pleasant until it turned cloying. A wry smile curved across her lips.

"You... have my attention."

Fire danced in my sapphire eyes—not metaphorically, but actual flames reflecting from the braziers, making my gaze appear molten. My long black hair shifted as I moved, carrying the scent of the sandalwood incense.

"I would like to propose a test of humanity. But I need the cooperation of you, Telaria, and Aldorian."

As if my words were an invocation, the air around us shifted. The pressure changed—my ears popped—and the scent of ozone intensified until it drowned out everything else. The temperature stabilized, no longer freezing but not quite warm either.

"You speak my name as if you understand order, Renaldo."

Telaria materialized in a cascade of light that left afterimages burned into my vision. Her long curly black hair cascaded to her waist, each curl perfect, catching the torchlight like spun silk. Emerald eyes—brilliant, clear, hard as gemstones—fixed on me with an intensity that made Apocalyptica's gaze feel gentle.

She smelled of clean linen and sharp herbs—rosemary, perhaps, or thyme. Crisp. Ordered. Everything in its proper place.

I stood, the chair scraping against stone with a sound that echoed too long. "I don't have to know order, because I know chaos. For this reason, I choose balance."

Her arms folded across her chest, the movement causing her dress to rustle—sheer overlay catching the torchlight, revealing and concealing simultaneously. The fabric whispered against her skin like secrets being shared.

I moved between them, my footsteps silent on stone. My eyes held each of theirs in turn.

"Now my proposal is simple. I wish to test the limits of humanity..."

The chamber seemed to hold its breath. Even the torches stopped flickering.

"I want to see how they deal with love, hate, rage, corruption and if order really can rise from chaos."

I paused before Apocalyptica, close enough to feel the unnatural cold radiating from her skin. Close enough to smell that sweet-rot-flower scent beneath the ash.

"I know, Apocalyptica, that you... you are the most curious, are you not? Because doesn't it get boring just to destroy?"

She scoffed—a sound that carried centuries of contempt. "True... But." Her gaze shifted to Telaria, and the temperature in the room dropped another five degrees. "How delusional. Order? Law? It is more of the manifestation of desperation in the face of chaos."

Telaria growled—a sound that started deep in her chest and reverberated through the stone floor beneath our feet. I felt it in my bones, that growl, vibrating through marrow and muscle.

"Sister, if you could muster up even an ounce of restraint, I am sure you would see what Renaldo is offering... It is an order to the chaos..."

She approached Apocalyptica, and where their auras met, the air screamed—a high-pitched whine at the edge of hearing that made my teeth ache. Her emerald eyes glowed with inner light, washing the chamber in green that made shadows twist and writhe.

"I don't think you have it in you to hold off... to not destroy... because you see... corruption is order in chaos, is it not? I don't think you are strong enough, are you... Sister."

Apocalyptica pouted, the expression somehow both ancient and childlike. She tapped one polished red nail against a table that hadn't existed a moment before—tap, tap, tap—the sound sharp as breaking bones in the tense silence.

"Awww. But rules are such a drag, sister. Corruption YES. It is fun but..." She paused, and in that pause, I swear I could hear distant screaming, as if her very presence carried the echoes of every soul she'd consumed. "There is so much more fun in just hearing the screams of agony before flames consume them. Along with watching the remaining survivors desperately cling to their little pieces of light. It's an addictive cycle I'll never quite tire of."

Before she could respond, the air itself began to shatter.

Not metaphorically. The space between us cracked, fractures appearing in reality itself with sounds like breaking glass. Through the cracks poured silver light that smelled of nothing—absolute neutrality, the complete absence of scent so profound it was almost a smell in itself.

Aldorian stepped through, and the cracks sealed behind him. His silver eyes held depths that reflected everything and nothing. Where Apocalyptica brought cold and Telaria brought crisp clarity, Aldorian brought stillness—the eye of a hurricane, the moment between heartbeats.

"Ah, Aldorian. I knew you would be compelled to come if you knew your counterparts were here."

Aldorian stepped between them. The temperature stabilized. The screaming air went silent. Even the scents—ash and herbs and nothing—balanced perfectly.

His silver eyes flickered as he looked at me. "Renaldo, you have nerve putting these two in the same room and daring them to defy their own nature. You ask Telaria to accept chaos, and Apocalyptica to embrace even a shard of order? You are going about this the wrong way..."

He paused. His expression shifted—something clicked behind those silver eyes.

"You... You... Ah... I see what you are desiring now, Renaldo."

His laughter filled the chamber—warm, genuine, the sound of wind through high mountain passes. It smelled of clean snow and distant pine.

"Ok, I will be on board with this under one condition. You must allow a horror into the realm... so that Apocalyptica can have her screams of agony. For Telaria, you must allow her something she can control."

I approached him, close enough to see my reflection in those silver eyes. "And what do you want?"

His smile was light, easy, containing multitudes. "I... I want you to create me the ultimate monster of neutrality. But you are going to have to make him love order, love chaos, and choose to defy both to act in neutrality."

Perfect.

The parameters were set. The experiment could begin.

What none of them knew—what none of the humans who would soon enter this realm realized—was that I was not merely designing a test for humanity.

I was designing a test for myself.