The Primordial Record

"why don’t you just kill us all?"

"its not my place. Now, lift!"

A woman with short hair, wearing ragged clothes stood inside a tunnel, above her were faint rumblings like the echoes of an unending thunderstorm.

Her hands were raised aloft, and it held a massive metallic object more than fifty feet long, in front of her and behind her were dozens of burly men with some women thrown in the mix, all of them held the object above them as they struggled to walk through the tunnel.

The woman’s feet dug into the earth that had become harder than steel over the course of centuries by the people who walked upon it. For everyone who walked these tunnels carried heavy burdens.

The materials of the tunnels were cursed, for they sapped the strength from muscle and every bit of Aether in the blood, all to keep the prisoners docile and easy to slaughter.

"You are the one going to kill yourself if you don’t ease up." The speaker turned out to be a tiny Sprite, that resembles a tiny female with dragonfly wings wearing a green armor.

The woman panted as sweat ran down her brows, the ache in her muscles had been growing, and her hands began to bleed as the wrapping she tied around it had worn off, for what they carried was both heavy and rough, and she carried the heaviest and roughest part of the load.

In two minutes, they reached the end of the tunnel, and she gave a small grunt and set her feet, she braced herself for the incoming weight.

"This is as far as you will go, leave the rest to me." She waited for a while and opened her eyes in anger, "Do you want me to repeat myself?" she asked softly with steel in her tone. The men and women holding the object with her shuddered and reluctantly backed away.

The full weight of the object came on her shoulders and she barely stopped the grunt from escaping her throat, and against common sense she began to run with the load.

The tunnel began to slope upward at an increasing alarming pace, and if she had not begun running, she would have failed to make it to the top, after all, the least number of people to make this run were fifty Legendary Dominator, and although she was at the Rift State, the burden did not make it any lesser to bear.

It was a good thing her bloodline had a breakthrough, and the Pathway of the Giant gave her great strength, else they all would be dead. Her Lord would despair when he came back for his people.

Reaching the top, she set the burden on a large flat belt, that was linked to a pulley and winches, and she began hurrying around to tie it down, she barely succeeded before the load she was carrying which was revealed to be a long metallic barrel etched with Runes was launched into the skies.

She had seen many people lose their limbs when they were not quick enough with fastening the winches around the large missile, some of them were sent hurtling into the sky, their despairing screams hanging in the air for longer than it should be possible.

Of course, there was no need to fasten the winches to the launching mechanism, for it was magnetic and held down the massive missile well enough, but it was regulation, and anyone who failed to do so would have to carry another missile to the launcher without the allotted one hour of rest.

It was one more depraved game played on this field of madness by people who she knew had simply gone mad after spending any amount of time here.

The only reason she was not insane was the knowledge that she needed to perform her duty to her lord. Any other burdens would have to be shifted to the sides.

She had failed him too much already, and when he returned she would have something of his waiting for him. It was the only thing she could hold on to—Her duty.

Else Maeve would have gone mad.

Before she returned back into the earth, she could not help but look at the battlefield, it was frowned on by every lifter down inside the earth in the endless maze they call home.

Do not look at the battle. Close your eyes and your mind to the carnage, for the knowledge of it would worm into your mind, both sleeping and awake, and death would be a solace.

Maeve did not listen, and she always looked, always watched the world ending a thousand times every day.

She always looked. She did not know why, but maybe it was as a witness, for she heard rumors of this war, but words did not do it justice, could never do it justice.

As always, she could only see a small part of a small part of the battle happening here.

The Unending War, as they called it. They told her, It would be her tomb, no matter how long she was to last, either a year or a hundred years from now. This war would never end, and her bones would a single grain of sand on an unending beach.

The missile she shot was one of the tens of thousands that broke the air with a loud scream as they pierced the air, raining down death. The launcher shooting the heavy missiles faster than the speed of sound was never empty for long, its sole task was to rain fire on the large armies of monsters.

Endless Demons whose howls of bloodlust were a permanent sound in the battle, paired with endless rows of Dominator in armor as the clash of steel against claws and fangs created a symphony of slaughter that shook the air.

They fought in what would have a small river, but it was not water that splashed below their feet. It was blood.

Blood that had flowed from the necks of a million dying every minute!

On this battlefield, the war that should be fought on a thousand different worlds were all concentrated in this place. It was hell.

Her sight moved upward to see giants in gleaming armor tackle Demons the size of buildings as the ground shattered before their clash. A Demon with the head of a bull was cut in two, its screams were like laughter, and it was ended with the giant stabbing a twenty-foot blade through its open mouth until it reached the brain.

Men in robes chanted arcane words, as lightning, fires and different spiritual attacks flooded the battlefield from their palms, every single second in the small part of the battle she was seeing was death and butchery on a scale that nearly tore her mind to pieces.

A loud groan erupted on the battlefield, where a flying female Dominator with red hair was torn in half by a laughing winged demon. With a last curse on her lips, the Dominator exploded, and the skies shattered as a mushroom cloud appeared in the atmosphere.

The winged demon was blasted into the skies and was set upon by two giant figures whose screams of rage were painting the sky red.

The shockwave from the explosion began travelling from the mushroom cloud above, followed closely by red flames, and Maeve watched in mute awe as it swept through the battlefield tearing apart countless rows of Demons, mages and Dominators, and when the shockwave reached her it flung her down into the tunnel where she hit her head against a protruding spike and everything went dark.

The last thing she saw was the tiny sprite looking down at her with worry in her eyes, then the flames rushed into the tunnel, and even in the darkness of unconsciousness she screamed, as she feared she had just lost the last of her lord’s people.

Forgive me.