The Eclipse.
The Occultation Ceremony.
The Incarnation Ceremony.

Three sacred ceremonies that were dictated to become the blood soaked bridge between the interdimensional space where the God Hand resides and the physical world. These Ceremonies were bound by ancient laws that even Void knew never to violate. Above all others, he knew the consequences if one chooses to abuse these rituals, to shake the very foundations that had governed the world since its inception, would fracture the order of causality, the only law that could contain chaos, such as hundreds of trees shed their leaves into a chaotic rain, the forest of Causality brings order to this chaos.

Prior to every Eclipse, the God Hand would enjoy its potentially eternal rule, so long as they satisfy the demands of their exalted position. After all, the world changes every 216 years and demands that the God Hands would continue to meet the people’s needs. New philosophies or revised laws would need greater greed and manipulations to maneuver, new cures or bodily resilience requires the evolutions of diseases and injuries to overcome, the pleasures of the flesh must always elevate itself to greater and more debauched heights, and ambitions must always be utterly crushed by the eventual rise of another. Should a God Hand fail to fulfill his or her role, a Crimson Behelit would appear from the Abyss and into the world, finding itself into the hands of the next potential member of the God Hand. 

Such is the Law of Causality that even the God Hands are subject to it. All perhaps except for Void himself.

Void was no stranger to this privilege. Since becoming the prophet of Causality, there was nothing that could challenge its truth, its absoluteness. It is because of this that he had personally overseen the disposal of previous God Hand members for past millenia to uphold that there must only be Five Members of this sacred position, having seen the future on the consequences of having an unlimited number of God Hand would be unacceptable to both reality and the Abyss itself.

Which is why Femto must be replaced.

This came as no surprise to the God Hand as they’ve foreseen it since Femto’s Ceremony. Just an eventuality to happen when it happens, only that this sacrilege will deal the uttermost punishment at the Hawk.

A chorus of screams announced their arrival as they materialized into their realm.

Looking down at their guests, they saw Griffith standing over a man who activated his Beherit. Once a remarkable swordsman who desires purity of faith above all others in the Holy See, he and his band rose up against the Apostles that Griffith had accepted into his kingdom in an effort to cleanse the country from demons and have humanity regain full control over their world. A fruitless effort, but what shines out from him amongst all else was his unshakable faith in the gods that he was the chosen one, to be the absolute bastion against demonkind.

In fact, it was impressive how much effort Griffith needed to invest in to dismantle the man’s demeanor to the whimpering mess that they see before them now. It was even dare-say entertaining for the God Hand to observe how the man was manipulated into alienating his own comrades as he committed himself on the warpath that brought him here today.

“No! No!” the man shrieked when he laid his eyes on the God Hand, pushing himself away with his unbroken leg.

“Hmm… I can taste it… Feel how his faith is crumbling… That last, gasping, desperate grip onto it… I’d love to savor it more” Slan thought to herself, licking her lips as she eyed the terrified man hungrily. In fact, she would’ve immediately gone after him if it weren’t for the uninvited guest that demanded their attention.

Clad in Berserker Armor, Guts let out a long howl of rage when he saw them but forced himself to focus as he charged once again at Griffith, swinging Dragonslayer at a wide arc towards his neck. It was mere hours ago when Guts and his band chanced upon a stranger fighting the Apostle Zodd in one of Falconia’s churches while he was acting on a tip that Grifftih had locked Casca here. It took the combined efforts of the man and Guts in Berserker Armor to mortally wound the Apostle when Griffith appeared before them with an unconscious Casca in hand.

Guts didn’t understand why the stranger despaired upon seeing Casca but welcomed his skills with the blade as they both charged at Griffith, unknowing that Griffith plagued the stranger with dreams that Casca, having been the leader of the Band of the Hawks, will help him secure ultimate victory over the demons, eventually turning his desperation to call upon his ‘gods’ for more strength to save Casca.

Griffith, already transformed into Femto, flicked Guts aside with a mere thought, sending the Black Swordsman crashing into the wall.

“Femto. You stand accused for your total disregard to our rituals. To force an Occultation Ceremony mere years after your own is no more than a desecration of our most ancient and sacred rituals, how do you plea?” Void said as the others stood quietly next to him.

Femto said nothing, the silence broken with the sound of thudding footsteps as Guts attacked again, this time leaping into the air and cutting down once more at him.

“And for that, you will be replaced” Void finished.

In a flash, a hand made of blood shot out from the ground and caught Guts, dragging him further away from Femto who ignored Guts’s struggle against the tomb of blood before eventually losing consciousness.

“You have been a naughty boy Guts” a voice sounded in his head.

Guts woke up and found himself at a plain somewhere, the grass softly swaying at the gentle breeze that enveloped him. It has been so long since Guts felt something like this that tears began to form. Deep down however, he knew this was all a lie. No peace would ever await him, not until Griffith-

“Dies by your hand!”

Guts tried to swing his sword towards the voice but his weapon disappeared from his hands.

“Do not worry, I just want to talk” Ubik said as he floated down from the sky.

Guts looked around, looking for a way out, but no matter where he looked, he was trapped in this field.

“We admire you, you know? Of all the people we have Branded, you have become quite a specimen to study” Ubik continued “In fact, we are so moved by your unyielding spirit, we want to grant you a reward!”

“Shut it” Guts snarled, running away from the God Hand, but proved futile as Ubik lazily kept pace.

“I’m serious. We understand your struggles, your pain, but most of all, your need for revenge. You have suffered much in your life”

Guts doubled over as a multitude of emotions rushed through him. The horror and desperation of his mother as she was dragged over to the tree, screaming for mercy. The pain and hatred of Gambino when he was crippled, forcing himself onto Guts when it was too much to bear. A lifetime of blood, sweat, pain and tears that plagued his every moment. There was only one period of his life where he had known peace.

The Band of the Hawk.

“Yes. This moment was your respite, your relief, your joy” Ubik spoke, his voice clear even as Guts tried to shout it away “Casca, Judeau, Pippin, Rickert, all torn away from you”

Guts, now a boy, began to sob and cry as Ubik continued to circle around him.

“This is why you are strong. You said it yourself, you are strong because you want to fight for your friends”

“But I was not strong enough!” Guts cried.

“No you were not. Even now after all these years, you still could not touch the man who sacrificed them all”

Guts looked up and saw Griffith a stone throw away, sitting on his warhorse, his helmet tucked under his arm. He was magnificent, with his radiant hair flowing gently in the wind. He raised his sabre towards the skies and Guts felt the same unnatural charisma that radiated out of him, a characteristic that won him an undefeated record in both the battlefield and politics. This was a man Guts had the privilege to call his friend.

The scene changed. Guts is now looking up to Griffith from the garden below. He was talking to Princess Charlotte. Guts, having taken his words to heart, was forced to relive it once more:

“In my mind, a true friend never relies on another’s dream. The man who would be my friend must have his own reasons for living. Beyond me. And he should put his heart and soul into protecting his dream. He should never hesitate to defend it, even against me. For me to call a man my friend, he must be equal to me in all respects”

“Griffith… Am I not your friend?” Guts asked, raising his hand towards him.

“He should have known your qualities Guts, if he did, he would surely have called you his friend” Ubik said soothingly “For you are not his equal, but you have surpassed him”

“But… I’m not a king! I’m not even a god!”

“Ahh… But don’t you have dreams that are beyond Griffith? Haven’t you fought for them even if Griffith is your opponent?”

“I…” Guts began but the thoughts were injected into his mind before he could remember them. How he had fought for Casca to regain her memories, how he resisted to be a sacrifice for Griffith’s ascension, how his unyielding goal of killing Griffith had never been deterred in the slightest.

“But you are right to recognize that you are not strong enough to defeat Griffith as he is now” Ubik said.

“Fate had brought you to use to obtain unlimited power” Void said suddenly.

“You will be unstoppable, a force of nature, nothing will ever stop you from satisfying your desires” Slan added.

“As Griffith had chosen to replace you, we now offer you a chance of redemption” Void continued "Sacrifice. Sacrifice your chains and we will have you kill Griffith right here, right now”

“Chains…?” Guts repeated questioningly.

“Guts” Griffith said.

Guts looked to his side and saw Griffith standing close to him. However, this was different. Similar to a lucid dream, Guts knew that the Griffiths before were all memories or illusions of the past, but this time, he knew that this was the real Griffith, even though he looked exactly the same when he was in his prime.

“Guts, please, do not listen to them. Their words are empty and are laced with lies”

“You dare call me a liar? What have I said that was not the truth?” Ubik challenged Griffith, annoyed at the sudden intrusion.

“It is not what you said, but what you refrained from saying that had made your proposition a lie” Griffith answered coolly.

“And what is that?”

“If only you mentioned that if the God Hand didn’t exist, I would never have sacrificed this man nor the Band of the Hawk. It is because you exist that they died”

Guts’s head perked up at those words, the hateful feeling of rage that he had learned to harness began bubbling back within him. As this happens, the world around them begins to crack as Guts slowly regains control of his consciousness, his body struggling again against his bloody prison thanks to the Berserker Armor.

“Listen to me-” Ubik began but Griffith shut him up with a wave of power that he lashed at him.

“No, listen to me” Griffith said to Guts, who began to shake “We both know what we want. You are angry at me for taking away everything dear to you, so I will make you a promise. I will bring them all back. Everyone whom we lost, I will bring them all back. Join me Guts, and together we can make things right. You can finally take revenge on the life that brought you so much pain and be reunited with the people you care for. You will be my right hand man and together we can mould the world how it was meant to be”

“You are right, it is because of the God Hands that took the lives of everyone” Guts said, looking down at Griffith as he regained his adult body “Because of that, I reject their offer”.

“I am glad you see reason” Griffith said, allowing Guts to put his hands on Griffith’s shoulders.

“But you were the one who sacrificed them” Guts continued, his voice laced with shaking anger, and brought his head down onto Griffith’s, headbutting him with all his might.

Ubik chuckled when Femto was forced out of Guts’s mind, relieved that Griffith, as much of a genius that he is, still did not seem to fully grasp how to read or observe foresight, which led to him failing to convert Guts over to his side. Admittedly, none of them were as skilled as Void, but their centuries of experience of foresight had given them the edge over their newest member.

“Submit and we can end this charade” Void instructed Griffith.

“And leave my seat empty? I thought you were a ceremonious man who followed the rules” Femto taunted “I cannot be replaced without a candidate. And I never will be”

A choking sound belonging to the man who called upon this ceremony echoed around them. He had done well to resist Slan’s temptations for so long and the last vestiges of his life were choked out of him by one of her tentacles as he finally caved into her attentions.

“Hmmm, that was delicious” Slan moaned, rubbing her belly “He was truly a pious man”

“So you have chosen to take Griffith’s side” Void said, unsurprised but disappointed that this was the path that Fate had brought them to.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’ve never thought this was a game where we picked sides” Slan cackled as she flew back into the sky “Griffith and Guts… These two men are too delicious to ignore and I want to see what they will become. You? You have been here since the beginning and frankly, you’re just too boring! Emotionless, stale, pleasureless… I need more!”

Matching her attack, Griffith launched both the full might of the Band of the Falcon that he willed into existence and his outworldly powers at Void. This unexpected alliance was of no surprise to Void, as he had already foresaw this and acted accordingly. He tore open portals and redirected their attacks lazily back at themselves. Zodd, already weakened by the previous battle, could not escape death as Griffith’s lighting attacks were directed to him, whilst the other Apostles could barely avoid them.

Ubik and Conrad observed from a distance, knowing full well that Void had foreseen it all and was far more than capable of dealing with insects such as these.

“I’m curious, would you have liked it if Void was replaced?” Ubik asked.

“Causality… Like disease… Beginning… End…” Conrad guttered.

“Indeed, if anything should happen to him, the results would be catastrophic” Ubik agreed.

“Special… For… Griffith…”

“Oho? Now that I’d like to see” Ubik laughed, knowing that Conrad had been dying to try a new diabolical concoction for a while now but he never bothered to find out what it was. Partly because he does not find the spreading of diseases particularly interesting, but also due to morbid curiosity on what Conrad had planned.

“Peace… Dislike…”

“Ahh yes, I would imagine that peacetime would be difficult for you. War and injuries would be the cesspit of your creations, am I right?”

Conrad didn’t reply, as was his custom to cease speaking after no more than a few words.

“Myself? I actually enjoyed Griffith’s rebellion. How he manipulated everything to this extent has been quite theatrical, almost as creative as some of my own scenarios” Ubik continued, watching the fight as it escalated further in its destructive spectrum.

A huge shockwave thundered across the infinite plain, causing tidal waves of blood to spill in all directions, washing away any Apostles that were too cowardly to run away from the apocalyptic battle that raged before their eyes. So strong were the torrents that their bodies were either shattered or liquified by the waves of blood that crashed into them, all saved but Guts, who managed to stay in place as he was rooted and shielded in place by a wall of tentacles.

Despite the ‘assistance’, Guts was lost in his rage and tried many times to cut his way out of this new confinement. However small this distraction is, Void proved too powerful and Slan was unable to protect her potentially new pet and fight him at the same time. Without warning, Guts was bombarded with scenes of pleasure and lust, pinning him down as she began a forceful possession. This was never her preferred choice as he may become a shell rather than one who wilfully dedicated himself to her, but at this moment, she needs him to be tame until an opportunity arrives.

It wasn’t long before the last member of the Band of the Falcon fell before Void’s impenetrable defences. He simply had all their tactics and attacks down to the most minute of details.Even as they overextended themselves far beyond their own supernatural abilities and tolerance, there was nothing that phased the God Hand.

After dodging his own attack after Void directed it back to him, Griffith revealed his trump card. With a telepathic message across the world, Griffith instructed his other Apostles to present Beherit to the many thousands of people that he had subjected to the most savage and tailored tortures for the past couple of years. As each and every single one had been broken and spiralled to the depths of despair, even the most vague chance of freedom was too much for them to resist.

Never before such a storm of tens of thousands of Eclipses that erupted across the physical realm of man had ever occurred. The force of so many otherworldly ceremonies threatened to rip reality asunder. Cities and fortresses fell within minutes as earthquakes shook the planet while entire forests were torn off from the ground by a sudden gust of hurricanes and tornadoes that blew everywhere.

The effect was immediate and it was noticeable how Void’s movement became slightly more animated as the fight dragged on. It came as no surprise to the God Hands when they felt themselves split in attention for their presence was forced to manifest in each and every Eclipse that occurred. Ubik watched in amusement when each person who activated the Beherit were killed by the battle, all of them dying alone but together at the same time, pondering if he would have been able to manipulate so many souls towards the same fate as Femto had.

Void, despite having foreseen Femto’s plans in advance, still became rather annoyed at the blatant disregard of the sanctity of these ceremonies. However, he must be patient, as a punishment may only be dealt when the person commits the crime. And Femto's many atrocities are still yet to come, to which Void must allow him to commit for the ultimate punishment. However, does Femto not know that he had already foreseen all these? Could he be so arrogant to think that these Eclipses would effectively hide which one that the Skull Knight would attack from? They may not be gods, but they are still the God Hand.

And sure enough, just as he foreseen, the Skull Knight came charging through the Eclipse from Falconia itself, the Sword of the Beherits drawn as he galloped his way towards them. Griffith nodded to Slan and she released Guts from her prison, relieved and impressed when she saw him gasping on the ground, wounded and almost broken. This piqued her curiosity if it was his love for his lover that prevented him from falling or that she did not dedicate enough attention to fully corrupt him, something that she hoped to enjoy later after this ordeal. For now she’ll make sure to stay out of Guts’s way as he roared in anger and charged towards Griffith.

Puck led the way, closely followed by Farnese and the others and were immediately confused at the clash before them.

At first glance it looked like Skull Knight, Guts, Femto, and Slan were attacking Void simultaneously, but that was before Guts ignored Void completely and swung his blade at Femto, who easily dodged it. The Skull Knight also stabbed the Sword of Beherits at Void’s skull, only to have it redirected to Slan, who squealed at the sudden pain as it stabbed her in the leg, whilst her thorns that flew towards Void were redirected at Femto, who had them showered into pieces with a mere thought..

“We have to help them!” Puck exclaimed and looked back at the troupe.

They tried to reach for their swords but realized that they could not move. They may have been through hell with Guts and fought a multitude of demons, monsters, and Apostles, but the presence of the God Hands alone overwhelmed them with fear. They knew instantly that this battle was beyond their weapons or any human effort. This was not something that could bleed or even be harmed. Farnese wanted to do nothing more than just sink onto her knees and pray to God for deliverance, but deep down she knew that even the God of the Holy See had fled this place.

All they could do was tremble.

Waving off the cannonball shot at him, Femto leapt into the air and with a silent command, sent what felt like the very skies crashing down onto Void in an attempt to cancel out fate itself, but to his frustration, Void merely redirected Skull Knight’s attack directly in front of Femto through a portal. So powerful was this attack, Femto could only parry it hastily, its force so powerful that it shattered the skies into nothingness. Acting entirely on instinct alongside the Berserk armor’s influence, Guts immediately leapt into Void’s portal, an act that caught Femto by surprise as he slammed him with his whole weight, knocking him out of the air.

“Oh? Now that’s unexpected!” Ubik squealed in delight.

Void didn’t say anything, hating himself that he felt surprised at Guts’s recklessness. Fate would not have hidden this action from him, which means that Guts continues to be the thorn, the uncommon ripple in Causality’s flow.

Recovering quickly and in rage, Femto raised his hand, willing Guts to levitate into the air and be tossed aside with so much force that the Berserk armor cracked. Ignoring this, Guts let out a loud roar and charged once more, swinging his massive sword so violently that his arms broke each time he swung. He is so close now, he could see Griffith’s eyes glaring back at him under that mask. His mark is bleeding profusely now, but when has he ever bled slowly? Speed. He needs more speed. He gripped the handle tighter, his wrist surely in pieces as he swung left, right, upwards, down, stab, up again, do-

“Enough!” Femto snarled, forgoing any grace and backhanded Guts to the side.

This time the Berserker armor did not survive, as it flew off Guts in pieces. With the sudden loss of the armor, Guts could not get back on his feet despite his best efforts. Twice he tried to lean against his sword, but could only fall back onto the ground.

Skull Knight attempted to charge once more but his efforts were again frustrated as Void correctly determined exactly where he was going to strike and easily sent every strike, this time to Slan. This provocation roused her anger and in return, she gave up on any form of strategy and attacked them both. Her lack of restraint could be felt by every mortal in the vicinity, including Guts’s party, where all of them were instantly smitten by the fear of their desires.

Bile filled Serpico’s mouth as the disgustingly unnatural desire boiled over within him as his hand drifted towards Farnese. How many years had he kept it a secret that he is her half brother? How many times had he, and must he, keep his mouth shut and protect her without reward? If only she knew how much pain she caused him, how much effort he had to pour in to stop himself from ever crossing the line. But now at the end of the world, is it too much to ask that he gives in just this once? Surely all oaths of loyalty and taboo are wiped away in face of complete destruction?

Isidro laid on the ground, struggling to remove his pants and catch the attention of anyone, everyone who would notice him. It was horrendously shameful, something he knew he could never recover from if they took notice, but the need to be appreciated, both physically and spiritually was overwhelming. He does not ask for much, he was just as a man as any other of his age is and he’s now willing to show it, but he just needs someone to do it with. Surely in hell there is someone, at least one.

Unlike the other two, Farnese was the only one who walked towards the battle, her eyes fixated on Guts. When she first saw him, he was everything that she had learnt to hate. He was savagely wild and brutal, a vulgar brute who only seeks out his own pleasures, a wild man who belonged only on the battlefield or the wilderness, living out unimaginable savageries that they would only shudder to imagine. Then he just had to show it. How he loves that woman, Casca. How did she tame that heart of his? She could barely even formulate words, but somehow, she was his world and he’d given all and more for her.

Farnese had sworn a life of piety and trained vigorously to keep her temptations in check under the guidance of the Holy See, but Guts… The moment he showed up, he had easily unearthed so many things that she had buried. Her doubts to her faith, her anger to those who revel in sin, her desires for the pleasures of the flesh, but the one that stood out most of all, was her jealousy of Casca. Unlike Casca, she is superior in every way, why won’t Guts see that? Was it because she’s not civilized? Does Guts like his woman to be more instinctive than reserved? If she showed that she is willing to discard her piety, would Guts come to accept her? Would the man who showed her the truths of life, the way of freedom, be satisfied with this offering?

“Guys! Snap out of it!” Puck cried, but his calls fell on deaf ears.

He didn’t need to waste his breath as this provocation was cut short. Ubik and Conrad, both having enjoyed the spectacle of battle, had finally made their move. In one fell swoop, the two God Hands slaughtered everyone that Femto forced to activate their Beherits, collapsing all Eclipses to reunify itself back into this one in an instant. Femto, having never experienced this, was caught off guard by the sudden whiplash of realities slamming together.

Undeterred, Skull Knight attacked once more at his hated enemy, this time pitting himself so close to Void that he could count every wrinkle on his disgusting brain. With smaller movements, Void’s advantage to use portals became increasingly minimal, forcing him to move away from the skeletal ghost from the ancient days and his beast.

Seeing the opportunity, Slan turned her attention towards Femto and Guts, both men who were now briefly vulnerable. She knew that once the Eclipses collapsed, their only chance to overthrow Void was lost, and her nature demanded a comforting snack to cushion the reality of this defeat. Tentacles wrapped themselves around them and they could feel their strength being sapped away, empowering her as they struggled against her bonds. She had never feasted on a fellow God Hand before and she reveled at the deliciousness of his power.

“Hmm!” Slan moaned, her insatiable appetite hungrily swallowing every ounce of life that she could. This feast would have been a delectable last meal if it weren’t for Void himself.

“Fate has something else in store for you and them” Void said.

Slan looked over at him with surprise. How did he escape the Skull Knight? Looking around, she saw Ubik and Conrad floating towards them, with the Skull Knight laying on the ground, the Sword of Beherit clattered a few feet away from his hand. What happened?

“Release them” Void commanded and she complied, hating herself.

“What do you mean fate has something else for me” Slan asked cautiously.

“Because fate had only demanded Femto’s sacrifice, not yours” Void said simply, turning himself away from her.

The message was clear and a deep fear pulsated within Slan. For now only Femto is to be replaced, and the next ceremony would surely be hers. She hung her head in defeat, knowing that the centuries ahead of her will disappear in the blink of an eye. It was more fun that they act as if they’d rule for eternity, not knowing which ceremony would be their turn to be replaced. Now that her days are numbered, the all powerful God Hand was humbled to submission before Causality.

Femto tried one last desperate attempt to lash out, but his powers evaporated into nothingness before the combined powers of all the God Hands.

“Do not be disappointed. It was fate that dictated where you are now” Void said.

“Fate is only powerful to those who kneel” Griffith replied.

“And yet you were sacrificed on its altar”

“An altar that I chose to climb”

“You mistake choice with the path laid before you”

“A path that I tend to carve”

“You already have”

Femto let out a loud cry as his powers bled away as the God Hand all removed his powers. His wings crumbled into shadow, his mask melted into darkness, his strength faded with the wind. His flesh shrank to his bones. He stumbled to the ground as his tendons detached themselves. He tried to speak but his tongue was gone. His handsome features stretched and tore. He tried to raise his hands to feel his face, but they would not listen, hanging uselessly in the air. He remembered this feeling before, this horrid and terrifying feeling.

He felt as if he were back in the Tower of Rebirth, that cursed dungeon that was his ‘home’ for a year. Desperately he tried to speak, to stand, to summon whatever wisp of power that could still be in his body, but nothing happened. He was truly a fallen hawk again.

When he fully realized this, he tried to shield his nakedness, to hide away, somewhere, anywhere, away in some ditch to escape the world. But there was no escape. The looming figures of the God Hands staring silently at him silently was as sure as death.

“Your thread is cut, the loom will not remember you” Void said, Slan flinching slightly at his words, for her fate will parallel Griffith’s when her time comes “Now your executioner”

Griffith could only watch as the unconscious body of Guts was brought before him.

“Rise” Void commanded.

Guts opened his eyes and stood up with such vigor that Puck gasped in wonder; as if the man had never had a sleepless night before. But the memories, the rage, the bloodlust, they all remained, made even more apparent by Guts’s renewed body. Like a starving wolf that caught up to its prey, Guts collected Dragonslayer and stood over Griffith, who cowered before him. Guts had finally caught up to Griffith.

“You’re finally here. Kill him. Kill him!” Ubik encouraged.

“It is fated that you will succeed” Void said.

“End…” Conrad guttered.

Guts looked down at the broken man and there was no pity. This was the same state Griffith was in when they rescued him. Griffith did not choose to save any of his comrades when he was broken, instead he chose to sacrifice them all for his own selfish gains. And with the blood of his comrades, he wasted it all, leading all the way back to this, but this time instead of rescuing him, Guts will be the one who kills him.

But…

“There is no point delaying, fate dictates that-” Void started.

Guts turned around and spat at Void’s face.

With incredible speed and ferocity, Guts swung his sword. And Void staggered. For the first time in millenia, a blade cut into the God Hand.

“I don’t need your help to kill him” Guts growled.

Surprised, Void lashed out an arm, forcing Guts away from him. Guts’s actions had unveiled an entire abyss of Causal results and probabilities, new futures that Void had never seen. Centuries of obsessive analysis undone in a matter of seconds. Quickly studying the most likely scenarios, Void turned his attention to the Skull Knight, who had recovered his sword. According to this thread of fate, once he kills the Skull Knight, Isidro would come into to deal the final blow and-

A stabbing pain shot through his side. Looking down, he saw Farnese, her face full of terror as she gripped onto a blade that was engulfed in flames.

Re-evaluating his position, Void was about to unleash a wall of energy to give himself some space between him and his assailants when a mouthful of bile drained out of his mouth and whatever flesh he still had rotten with diseases. In frustration, Void quickly identified this string of fate and had Conrad sliced into half with nothing but a thought.

“Conrad! Why?!” Ubik cried, horrified at the sudden betrayal.

“Slan… Me…” Conrad gargled.

Ubik wouldn’t understand. He would never understand that Conrad’s allegiance was purely a practical one. Should Griffith win and achieve peace, diseases and death would decrease dramatically, dramatically heightening his chances to be replaced. That being said, Ubik had always had a closer relationship with Void, as fate would need a manipulator to push individuals to its path. Conrad? He would always have a closer relationship with Slan, would still be able to provide him with populations to infect through the pleasures of lust and flesh, but once she’s gone, there’s no guarantee her replacement would assist him.

Seizing the opportunity and as a final act of defiance, Slan engulfed Grifiith with her power, an action followed immediately by Conrad, forcibly empowering him.

Griffith started to scream, clutching his head as he begged himself to resist their influence pouring into him, but they would not be denied. His body started to change, his absolute rejection combined with their absoluteness gave rise to something new, an abomination, a hybrid between human and Apostle. His flesh became blobs of pus, his bones shattered as they became snake-like creatures. Though grotesque beyond imagination, Griffith began sobbing as he felt the irresistible urge to obey. To kneel. To be commanded.

To be a slave.

With no control but with full consciousness over his new body, Griffith was forced into battle, unable to do anything but endure the humiliation and pain. Like a mindless beast Griffith ran towards Void, his many arms cutting through the air with no grace nor tactics behind them. Merely a simple instinct of survival driving his body.

This gave Void enough time to settle on a thread of fate. Guts and Skull Knight will attempt to use Griffith’s new form as a distraction, with the real danger being Farnese. They will succeed in harming him, but fate had provided a victorious route for Void, as long as he follows it correctly. He would only need to ignore Farnese’s next stab and-

“Griffith!” Guts roared, slashing at the hideous Apostle rather than Void, cutting off Griffith’s attack midway by slicing off his legs.

The future changed again. Guts’s unreasonable actions flurried in a new string of possibilities that- Skull Knight was upon him now, the Sword of Beherits already cutting into his shoulder. Farnese stabbed him again, the flames becoming hotter.

The future changed again. Instinctively, Void let loose a huge surge of energy, forcing both Skull Knight and Farnese off him. Now he has time to study. He could see it now. Guts… Guts will be the one who’ll cut his head off, but how? Was it Serpico stepping in to save Farnese? Isidro coming to prove himself? No… It was-

“Ahh!” Puck yelled, pelting himself at Void at full speed and punching him in the face, the tiny fist glanced harmlessly off his bones.

“What?” Void asked, unsure what to look for anymore in the uncertainty of Causality.

Guts let out a roar as Griffith ducked, the blade slicing through the air, its trajectory unknowingly swung at Void’s throat. In his haste, Void stepped back clumsily, panic and fear gripping his bones. He had refused death before and sworn he would never be so close to its cold embrace again. With his will alone the God Hand came into existence, he would never find himself killed by a silly accident like that.

Then he tripped. No, he was tripped. Skull Knight had clamored over unceremoniously and had him crashing to the ground by pulling at his leg. Without uttering a single word, the Knight brought his sword down, his blade falling at Void’s throat. Void didn’t know what to do, for it had been too long since he had done anything without absolute certainty of its outcome. What sort of results await him if he simply acts now? The fates are still weaving its tapestry and it will not be complete before his supposed doom.

Skull Knight knew this and doubled his efforts. Having battled with fate itself for so long, he was familiar with how much time Void needs to study its ever changing future. Now it is only a matter of time when Void would make a mistake, to allow himself to follow the most powerful instinct of all living things. He knew his enemy more than anyone; beneath that cold demeanour and superiority, was a frightened little boy who feared death.

As he hoped, Skull Knight saw their doom. Void, in panic, tore open a portal and Skull Knight saw his own back through it. He didn’t stop. He had always known that the death of Void would be the end of his existence, therefore he might as well be the one who ends it.

The Sword of Beherits sliced through his armor like butter, the anguish of hundreds of souls screaming through his body as the blade cut through his bones. He ignored it, forcing it all the way through and piercing his breastplate, and into Void underneath him until he felt it planted into the ground. The Skull Knight is no more.

“No!” Ubik shouted and when he touched the handle of the Sword of Beherit. 

Before he could do anything, Guts leapt into view, dodging Griffith’s attacks. He was so focused that he didn’t realize Skull Knight’s death and instinctively pulled out the Sword of Beherits to continue his duel with Griffith. In the process, Skull Knight’s body was kicked over and revealed that Void was alive, albeit shaking slightly. As fate would have it, the Sword of Berehit somehow did not hit its mark. A one in a billion miss and fate granted it to her favourite prophet.

Relief washed over Void as he stood back up and looked down on Skull Knight’s body. Their ancient rivalry, this ancient feud where this opponent had sworn to never die until Void dies first, had met his end. Void had finally won. Void began to chuckle, the deep and guttering sound echoed across the planet as it rang across the Eclipse.

This sudden death sent ripples across the spectral world, one that caught the attention of Casca, who had had enough of being locked away in an unknown, spectral space that Griffith had locked her in. Once more she snatched the lamp from the ground and threw it against the window, only to watch it bounce off the glass. Whatever Griffith has made here, it was a disturbing reflection of his own bedroom, where she somehow knew that the bed that he prepared for her is the same bed he shares with Princess Charlotte.

Angry tears flowed down her cheeks. It was bad enough that she’s a prisoner, but now Guts and the others are fighting in what would be the most important battles of their lives- heck maybe even the world’s.She refused to sit on the sidelines while everything hung in the balance. She raised the lamp again when a faint voice in the air called out to her.

“Casca?” the voice called, barely audible.

“Who’s there?” Casca replied, looking around.

“Finally! Hang on, I’m almost there!”

The room began to shake as the intruder forced herself into existence by tearing apart the illusions that Griffith had previously set up.

“Schierke!” Casca exclaimed as the witch stumbled in.

“Casca! You’re safe!”

“How did you get in?”

“I don’t know, I’ve been trying to get in for hours, but Griffith’s power was so strong… Then it just suddenly… Vanished?” Schierke said, unsure herself.

“He’s dead?” Casca asked, suddenly grabbing Schierke’s shoulders.

“What? I-I-I” she stammered at Casca’s sudden rage “I don’t know!”

“Take me to them! There may still be time!” Casca demanded.

“What? I’m not taking you there! Guts told me to keep you safe!”

“Guts have no right to lock me away! I’ve been trapped for long enough!”

“But-”

“Take me to them, please. I cannot stay useless. Not anymore…” Casca said, softening her tone but remained stern.

Schierke opened her mouth to protest. She could just as easily leave Casca here and collect her later. To Schierke, allowing Casca to go back to that place would be the cruelest thing she’d ever done, for she remembered navigating through Casca’s mind when she was still broken. The pain and trauma that she experienced were beyond horrendous. How could she send Casca back to that place?

At least that's what she thought until she saw the conviction in Casca’s eyes. She was no warrior, but she recognized that look before. It was the same gaze that Guts wore whenever he sets his mind to something and to keep her here would not only be cruel, but it will invoke a wrath that she does not want haunting her nights.

“Alright, but please know that I cannot protect you there” Schierke said, fighting hard to keep her fears at bay.

“Understood. I’m ready”

The duel between Guts and Griffith was reaching its apex and Slan turned her attention to Guts to stop him from killing her new pet. Twice Guts nearly met his end due to her efforts to hold him in place, forcing him to use the last of his gunpowder for his cannon and even losing the Sword of Beherit that he lodged in Griffith’s back, only to realize that he did not stab deep enough.. 

Seeing this, Serpico finally moved from his paralyzed stupor. Waving his weapon, the blades of winds cut into Slan’s tentacles and weakened them enough for Guts to force himself free. What followed were some of his most fluent and disciplined slashes Serpico would ever do in his life. Every move was nothing but perfection in timing and angles but even with his talents pushed beyond their limits, he could not do anything but to slow her down.

Isidro scoured the battlefield. He knew it clattered here somewhere but all he found were the rotting corpses of Apostles. He began to feel sick when he couldn’t find it after looking around a pile of skulls. How could something so large be hidden? He had shouted to Serpico to help Guts as he knew he was not as skilled as him in combat, but if he couldn’t find the Dragonslayer, then he would have let everyone down.

“Over here!” Puck yelled and led the way.

Rushing over, Isidro elated when he saw it. It was indeed the Dragonslayer, the dark iron blending in almost perfectly under the shadow of a particularly large Apostle. His joy was quickly replaced with concern the more he approached it, for it was far larger than he remembered. It has been years since he last attempted to lift Guts sword and he’d like to imagine that he had grown since then, but as he heaved and pulled, the Dragonslayer still proved heavy.

“You are weak…” a voice whispered.

“Failure” another added.

Isidro jumped back, looking around for the source of the voice, his heart thumping hard against his chest. He was sure that they were alone. Did the God Hand spot him?

“What are you doing?! Hurry!” Puck shouted, tapping Isidro’s head.

“Did you hear that?” Isidro asked, still looking around “I hear voices”

“Hurry!”

Wrapping his hands around the handle, Isidro heard them again.

“Weak…”

“Murderer…”

“Unloved…”

“Beast…”

Isidro tried ignoring them, but the longer he held onto the iron, the louder the voices became.

“These are the voices in the blade?” Isidro thought to himself. He has always had a theory that if you soak something in demon blood for long periods of time, it’ll do something weird to it “Guts have to listen to this crap everytime he uses this?” 

Emboldened at Guts’s suffering and determination, Isidro dug in his heels and tugged ever harder.

Void was still looking at the body of the Skull Knight, taking his time to ponder on Fate and Causality for this victory. There was more confusion than the sense of victory. Void had studied countless casualties of this rivalry, how fate had rewrote their stories, some of which Void would be successfully killed, many of where the Skull Knight dies. Centuries that Void had stared into the tens of thousands of endings.

This was none of them.

“All because of this man, he is the cause of the distortions” Void thought as he looked at Guts.

He thought of slaughtering Guts right here and now, but decided that if he entered Guts’s sphere of influence, he'd put himself in danger. There is a thread of fate that was still weaving, for somehow Griffith would still be the cause of his defeat but at the hands of Guts. Void pondered and kept looking for the threads where Guts planned or harbor feelings of striking him, but there were none to be found.

Things were still uncertain.

Griffith had backed Guts into the corner, there was no escaping now. Weaponless and out of gunpowder, Guts could not possibly pull off a miracle. In a flash, Griffith struck…

And screamed in pain.

“What?” Guts gasped, jumping to the side as Griffith arched back in pain.

At Casca’s orders, Schierke opened the portal closest to Guts and Casca acted without a single moment’s hesitation. Jumping through, the first familiar object she saw was the handle of a sword lodged in some fleshy mass, and instinctively stabbed it deeper before pulling it out.

Guts was shocked when he saw Casca here, but didn’t have time to think as Grifftih became dangerously feral.

“Guts!” Isidro shouted. Covered in bruises and cuts from dragging the Dragonslayer, Isidro fell a short distance away, near Skull Knight’s body, completely spent.

“Casca, here!” Guts yelled as he ran over to Isidro’s unconscious body.

She heard and skillfully positioned herself. She was already running out of breath, the years of being mentally broken had ruined her posture and stamina, but it was Griffith’s tortured face before her that allowed her to focus. Memories of what he did to her that day raged in her mind and she’d be damned if she did not make him feel the same pain, the same fear that he inflicted on her.

“Now!” Guts yelled.

Casca ran to him, the very sight stirred Griffith to anger. Not only was he a slave, but Casca, the woman whom he had decided to protect, would still choose Guts? For the first time since he became this abomination, his mind and body acted as one and he charged at them, hungering to punish them for always abandoning him. For always rejecting him. For always defying him.

Void watched in interest as fate was almost finished with her futures. He had already taken a step back for he had seen that Guts would use the oversized iron to try to cut both him and Griffith in half in a single swing. An interesting effort but one that fate had already weaved into existence. Then surely Guts would somersault himself to attack him, where he can redirect the attack to kill Casca instead. This is the inevitable causality of his defiance to fate.

Guts swung perfectly. Void prepared himself and-

Griffith did not split in half as fate dictated. Guts did indeed swing, but used the broadside of his iron instead, knocking Griffith unconscious with a deafening clang.

“What?” Void asked audibly as fate was already rewriting herself drastically, stunning Void into confusion.

Serpico sent a blast of wind over to Void as he was overwhelmed by Slan, his body now desperate to earn the pleasures she promised him. This attack unraveled an ocean of possibilities, Void needed time to make sense of this and-

Casca leapt into the air with a yell, the Sword of Beherits high above her head, her warrior instincts pulsing with absolute confirmation that this was the monster who gave Griffith the option to sacrifice the Band of the Hawk. Judeau, Pippin, Corkus, Gaston, and the others, they must be avenged.

However, Void knew her intentions and tore a portal open, his thoughts to have her slice Guts as he was already directing his attention towards them. If fate would not have Griffith kill the anomaly that is Guts, then perhaps his executioner would be his loved one after all. 

Once more a sharp pain engulfed Void as Farnese stabbed him from behind with the flaming blade, breaking his focus.

Void, the head of the God Hand, the master of fate, he had brought an eternal end to ancient wisdoms and knowledge just by forgetting them (if he so chooses to). A cosmic being who oversaw the many corruption or deaths of millions of souls over the centuries, is, was, and had always been a philosopher more than a warrior. This was the only reason why he met his eventual and fated end.

He did open the portal, but instead of Guts, it appeared at his side behind Farnese. Casca saw and in the split of a second, she skillfully twisted her blade from a cut, falling just below the portal, and stabbed the Sword of Beherit upwards, the blade finally tasting Void’s exposed flesh. So quickly this happened, Void didn’t even know he had died. At least not physically, as his soul was mercilessly clawed into the Abyss.

An unearthly screaming deafened them as Slan and the others experienced a sudden surge of energy that sapped away their own. Unbeknownst to them, Void was their first Causality to becoming the God Hand, and the consequences for losing him, was for them to lose everything that they are. They violently reverted back to their human forms, and evidence of their abuse, lies, and mutilation become apparent as they whimper and cower on the ground, reliving the last moment of their tortured lives.

Farnese ran over to Serpico and helped him up to his feet. He was shaken, ashamed, but mostly unharmed. Looking over behind him where Slan was a moment ago shook Farnese to her core.

Laying down on the ground was a frail woman who looked like she was in her thirties. She tried to hide her face but her fingerless hands did little to hide the scars, the chunks of flesh that melted down over her eyes, shutting them forever. Scars of whips and or flogging littered her legs and arms. Even in this state, there were still the slightest hints of her lost strength, someone who was once strict and stern, but was torn out of her overtime. What truly caught Farnese’s attention was that she was wearing the exact same pendant that she wore before when she was the Commander of the Holy Iron Knights.

Ubik and Conrad were holding tightly to one another, desperate to share whatever warmth that they could find, a desperation that they had not felt since the village.

Ubik was once a boy who was too clever for his own good, spending much of his time mocking the priests, deceiving guards, shattered friendships, divorced loving couples, all for the sake of a little more coin. When the people had enough, they nailed his tongue to the chapel door and sewed his fingers together, but even then his smirk never faded, as if biding his time. That was when the people called Conrad.

Conrad was a peculiar healer in the village. It was not that he was a bad healer, but rather whenever an ailment happens upon him, he would make efforts to avoid taking the medicine that he administers to others, rather he would spend nights studying his pain and discomfort alone in his study. His greatest wish was to test the limits of the body but without any volunteers, he could only do it alone. At least until the fateful day Ubik was given to him.

At first, Conrad does not understand what the people wanted. He spoke to them again and again to try to understand that they wanted him to cure Ubik rather than torture him, as he was suffering from some hearing issues that time due to an ear infection. What followed was a strange string of events that led the two men falling for one another, which immediately branded Ubik as a sorcerer. Therefore as punishment, they dragged them out into the streets that winter night, bound them together, before burying them alive in a snow filled ditch.

Guts didn’t care, for his attention now is on Griffith, who was choking on his own blood as his demonic body faded.

Griffith wheezed as he started to laugh. He clawed at his face, as if trying to rip it off. His eyes became wild and he started to thrash on the ground, as if trying to wake up from a nightmare. Drool and blood flowed freely down his chin as he tried to wander, but could only fall back to the ground. Like a lost puppy, he crawled on all fours, whimpering and looking around as if for his mother.

Casca came over, sword at the ready. She wanted it to be quick, to strike before anything could stand in her way. To act out her revenge. She aimed the blade to land the killing blow… Only to be stopped by Guts as he grabbed the hilt of her sword.

“Casca… Enough” Guts said, fatigue laced in his words.

“What? What do you mean? He must pay!” Casca shouted, trying to break free from his grip, but he held tight.

Something brushed itself against her leg. She looked down and recoiled in disgust. It was Griffith, having finally found someone he recognized, and he gave them a genuine look of confusion that they’ll move away from him. This was when Casca realized the man who did all those horrid things had already died.

“No… No, you’re not getting off that easily!” Casca scolded, grabbing his shoulders and started shaking him roughly “Common! Look at me!”

He obeyed, looking at her with eyes of wonder, fear, and innocent hope.

“NO! LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT GUTS!” she shouted, shaking him even harder.

There was no spark, no ambition, no schemes, not even intelligence. Griffith is beyond broken. He is gone.

Throwing him aside, Casca let out a loud wail of frustration, one that matches Guts’s own, only that he chose to bore it silently. He allowed her to grieve as the world around them faded away slowly, until they were back in the ruins of Falconia, a stark reminder of Griffith’s ambitions. After what felt like an hour, Guts’s party dared to move closer to Guts and encouraged him to find shelter as night was close.

Guts agreed and pulled Casca away. She didn’t protest. They had no more reason to be here.

“What do we do now?” Isidro asked.

“We should stay away from the forests. Bandits would stalk the trees now since the city fell” Serpico said.

“No I don’t mean that, I mean… You know… We’ve won, so now what?” Isidro 

“We go home” Guts said, rubbing his mark that had finally stopped hurting.

Griffith watched as they walked away. He wanted to follow but he couldn’t bring himself to. He just sat there, waiting as night fell. He was cold and hungry, but too weak to move. Deep down he knew that this was the end for him but an impatience within him pushed him to action. A little distance away was a sharp, jagged rock that protruded from the ground. He knew his ambitions were truly out of reach now, there were no more gods or angels or even demons to save him, and even if there were, he had nothing else to give.

He positioned himself above the jagged edge and with one final act, the hawk impaled himself into the ground, forever.