The Men Who Killed God (Sinner of the Infinite Book 1)

by J Alex McCarthy

  “Misguided? I’m not misguided, at all. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  “And what’s that? What’s your ultimate goal? You can always turn back from this. He can protect you.”

  August shuddered. He was the cause of this. “I’m going to kill He himself. And with this power I will.”

  Svante eyes quivered. “So. It will be you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Do you believe in fate, August?”

  August looked down. “No.”

  “Good. Because I’m going to try to cancel it.”

  Svante raised his right hand in the air. Blue sparks surrounded his hand. In a flash and a boom, a sword made of lightning erupted from his hand. He swung the sword down and the sound of thunder spewed from it. Tiny sparks traveled down along the sword, zapping into the ground and everywhere surrounding it.

  August looked into his hand. With a will, a sword of the whitest of blues appeared in his hand.

  Suddenly, a surge shocked through his body. His breath stopped. His eyes widened. The hairs on his skin stood up.

  He could see things he’d never seen before. The world swayed in a weird wavy motion. The air. He felt the intricate movements of the air. He heard the heartbeats of the Earth. He could see planes of light that he never knew existed.

  Svante stepped toward him. August could see each footstep before it happened. The twitch of the muscles running down Svante’s body. The electricity in the air around him. He could see every movement as if it were happening in slow motion. But oddly enough, everything was moving at the right speed.

  Svante flashed away and August raised his blade of light. He could see him, Svante moving at thousands of miles per hour. Even then, he was still a blur coming for him.

  August saw his blade of lightning swing toward him and swung up and their blades clashed. An explosive light resonated off the swords.

  Svante said, “Impressive.”

  …

  Bullets swirled around Kevan as he walked down the hall. He walked past the guards that he had just blasted open. Sirens were wailing in the halls, waking the enslaved in their cages. They cried to him, prayed to him to save them.

  He couldn’t now. He had a mission to accomplish.

  The guards were retreating. He had them cornered. He fired into a group of guards, hitting each of them with precision. A bullet flung off his back. He turned around and aimed at the lone guard who challenged him.

  A ball of white light pooled in front of his gun barrel. He wasn’t firing bullets, but whatever energy the Omniscient Man had given him. He didn’t need the gun, but it helped him channel the power into a precise point.

  The white got bigger and bigger and Kevan fired. It hurtled toward the man and slammed into his chest. On contact, it exploded out, knocking down a wall.

  Kevan turned back around and continued down the hall, taking care of any guards in his way. He was counting the cell numbers. 259g, 260g, 261g… Eventually he came to a stop in front of cell 263g. He blew open the lock and opened the door.

  In front of him lay his wife. Naked and dirty, curled into a ball.

  “Luna…” Kevan bent over and placed a hand on her. She shook. “Luna…”

  She slowly looked up at him. Her face scarred with dried blood. She would cry if she wasn’t dry of tears. “Kevan…” Her voice was dry and cracking.

  They hugged each other for what felt like years. Even though she was dehydrated, the tears still came.

  “We have to go,” Kevan said. Luna nodded.

  Kevan placed his trench coat over her and hoisted her up on his back. He walked out of the cell. Men were coming from his right. He aimed and fired at them. He needed to escape before any gods came.

  In the cell in front of him, a dirty-looking man was staring at him with wide open eyes. He started shaking his door. “Save me! Save me please!”

  It started a chain reaction. Everyone awoke from their cages and started crying, screaming, yelling at him.

  He needed to escape, he came for what he wanted.

  But as he looked around, he realized every person in the place was stolen from the world. Just like Luna. He glanced at Luna’s smiling face. She still had her warm smile. She knew what he had to do.

  …

  Sparks flashed as August and Svante’s blades danced in the air. Svante was fast, but August could see his movements.

  Svante came from August’s right and he blocked him. And then Svante came from the left and August did the same.

  It was a dance where only one of them was leading the way. August was on the defense, never really making a move. He needed to change that.

  He paused and surveyed his surroundings. Svante was whirl-winding around him, he was everywhere at once. A blur moved fast at him from his right and August struck. Svante disappeared and appeared to his left. August barely had time to block him as he was blown back.

  August’s feet skidded across the office carpet. Svante came for him again. He blurred to his left and August swung at him and again Svante appeared to his right and struck down on him hard.

  August’s world shuddered as his shield blocked the hit. He was knocked off his feet and felt his bones squeak.

  “Shit,” August said through his teeth as he landed on his feet. Svante was powerful. August wasn’t sure he could take too many of those hits without his shield turning into shit.

  Svante barely gave August time to think. He blurred forward and then to his right.

  August pulled out his gun and fired to his left. Svante ducked right as the bullet skidded across of his face, leaving a nice little scar. August swung up and his blade caught him in the shoulder and Svante was thrown back.

  Svante landed hard and laughed. “I guess you figured out my play. But you just gave up your last surprise.” The sword in his hand grew brighter. It was unbearable to look at. There was no blood leaking from his shoulder. Just a colorful mist.

  Svante continued, “You’ve gotten faster, but I’m still the fastest. You can try to counter me, but I don’t think you’re well-versed in sword play and you only have a twenty-five percent chance of stopping my advances.”

  “Twenty-five percent?”

  “Left, right, front and back. You can only defend yourself on one side at any point of this fight. So twenty-five percent.”

  “Let’s finish it, then.”

  They became a blur as swords met again. Svante flashed all around August. Somehow he kept up. Even with his new power, Svante was incredibly powerful.

  August’s eyes flickered all around him. If he hesitated, if he made one hiccup, he was dead.

  August swung all around him, meeting Svante’s blade as it flashed.

  August pulled out his gun and kept it in his left hand. As soon as Svante paused, he fired at him. Svante’s movements were confusing and disconnected.

  Svante would blur to his right, August would fire to his left and then swing right again to meet Svante’s blade.

  This kept up for what felt like hours. Svante swirled around him in flashes of light but August kept up. They were in a dance. It was a waltz of blades, dancing in harmony, as Svante came at August, August defended, and then August would attack and Svante would do the same.

  It was a dance of life and death. As August looked around him, Svante didn’t blur anymore, he became light frisking in the air. August had no skill when he shot at Svante as Svante would just move out the way. August started to attack out of desperation.

  Svante suddenly disappeared, August looked around. He was gone. There were no flashes of light or blurs in the wind.

  August felt a heat above him and leaped out of the way. But it was too late, Svante’s blade of lightning swung into his chest. August felt a crack inside him as he hurtled back.

  He landed on the ground hard. Blood erupting from his lips. He skidded across the dead on the office floor.

  “Fuck.” His shield was gone. He felt it break.

  He didn’t
hesitate and jumped to his feet, Svante was already zooming for him. Sword raised to strike.

  “Shit.”

  August swung up and their swords met. The momentum from Svante’s swing sent August flipping into the air.

  The world seemed to slow for him. Fuck. This was it. Svante was going to kill him. The world swirled around him as he continued toward the ceiling.

  Svante flew up for him, going in for the kill.

  August needed to do something and do it fast. He let go of his blade and willed it away. Ten orbs swirled around his hand and he pulled out his gun. He willed it into the gun and felt an immense heat erupt from it as the gems combined with his gun.

  The power surged in his hands. It burnt like hell, like it was melting into his very existence. It glowed the brightest of whites.

  He aimed it at Svante and fired.

  Svante jerked left as the bullet ripped past him. As it went past him, it pulled in all the colors of the things surrounding it and crashed into the wall.

  The boom deafened August. Svante glanced back at where it hit. The wall simply didn’t exist anymore. All the colors of the things in its trajectory were now gray.

  The release of the round threw August into the ceiling and he came crashing down onto the floor.

  He felt the creaks in his bones from the release. If he wasn’t in the air and he tried to brace himself, he was sure the blow would’ve torn off his arm.

  Svante looked at the hole, the gray it created and then to August. “This power needs to be destroyed.”

  Svante zoomed toward him. August jumped to his feet. Svante was moving fast. August pulled the orbs from the gun and willed them into a blade, the power burning through him, and met Svante’s blade.

  Svante was blown back hard. Blood left his lips as August threw him back. Svante flew into the new hole in the wall.

  This was it!

  August willed away what little protection he had for his body. Only two orbs. The rest were gone.

  He pooled them all into his blade. With this power he could do anything. He flew toward Svante.

  Svante stood and poured all his energy into his sword of lightning. It turned into the bluest of blues and Svante flew toward August.

  Power versus power.

  As they propelled head on, August felt the heat from the blade; it burned intensely, sweat covered August’s face. He struggled to hold onto it as it pulsated erratically.

  His hands turned gray as the blade was ripping apart his very existence. It vibrated strongly through his very core, through his bones and his mass. He felt his arms giving way.

  He heard a snap as he felt a disconnect in his arms. They just broke. He ignored it. The powers overcoming his senses. He didn’t feel pain, he didn’t feel terror, he felt pure unadulterated power and he need to strike the god of war down. Permanently.

  Svante met him in the middle and they both swung.

  A shockwave exploded the air molecules around them. A burst of light ruptured between the swords and August blacked out as he was thrown back.

  He came to almost immediately. The sword was gone. The office was covered in smoke and had no color. August tried to move but he couldn’t. His arms were broken and the power sucked all the energy out of him. He willed a few orbs in front of him. He had four left. One of them disappeared. Three.

  In the gray in front of him, a blue light was emerging from the smoke.

  Svante limped toward him with his sword of lightning. He was covered in blood and his clothes were torn into tatters. He stopped in front of him.

  August looked up at him the best he could.

  Svante said, “It was a nice fight.” He raised his blade and swung down.

  A single shot rang out. Svante’s blade disappeared and he looked down at his chest. There was a hole. Another shot blew through his shoulder and he stumbled back into the hole in the wall.

  “August!” Kevan ran up behind August. “Shit!”

  Kevan helped August to his feet. August gained a little more movement in his legs. Behind him, a few dirty-looking men walked in with their guns raised.

  “Who…are they?” August asked.

  “Freed men.”

  August smiled. “Thanks… for coming for me. We have to finish him. Svante.”

  Kevan carried August through the hole in the wall and into Svante’s office.

  Svante sat against the wall. He was lighting a cigarette and blew smoke out of his mouth. His very being was misting into a colorful light. He stared out of the window.

  Kevan said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to end this way.”

  “This was the only outcome,” Svante said.

  Kevan leaned August against the wall, next to the window Kevan was closest to.

  Svante continued, “This is Queen’s doing… and you’re playing right into her hands.”

  “What do you mean?” Kevan asked.

  “She wants a war. She’s been wanting a war ever since He created the human race. She’s a fucking child, she felt slighted that He created you and didn’t give her all the attention in the world. Well, she got her wish and it will bite her in the ass.” Svante laughed.

  “Why would she want a war?” Kevan asked.

  “Don’t believe a word he says, Kevan.”

  Svante chuckled. “Why would I lie to you?”

  “Never believe a dying man’s words. A person who is afraid of death will say anything,” August said. August knew that wasn’t true, but he would never trust a god.

  “Death?” He chuckled again and tapped out his cigarette. “I’m not afraid to die, August. As my soul is going back to the Wavering Radiant, I will become life itself.”

  August stared at him. He was getting lighter as the seconds went by. August had fought the world’s strongest god and won. With the help of Kevan of course. Maybe he really could destroy He.

  Svante continued, “He stopped talking to us millennia ago. We don’t know why. That scares some of us, while it causes certain actions in others. Queen wants a war so that when the gods win, she’d have an excuse to rule over humanity in her own way. She’s kind of doing that now. But she doesn’t have complete control. Not yet, because of gods like me. I ask to you, as a being who cares. Please do not continue your fight against the gods.”

  “Why not? Is it because you think we could win?” Kevan said.

  Svante looked up at Kevan. “I suppose there is a new possibility that the humans could win the fight against the gods now. I guess it’s the gods versus the humans. I don’t want the gods to die out. It’s our nature to persevere. You’d wish the same.”

  Svante’s eyes suddenly flew open. “The watcher’s here!”

  “Who?” Kevan asked.

  “The judge and executioner. Michael. God’s only angel. Run!”

  August suddenly felt the air around him get warm. Thanks to his power, everything slowed for him. The window started to get brighter and brighter. Something was coming. Something more powerful than Svante. Something more powerful than August could have ever imagined.

  He looked at his brother. He needed to save him. He grabbed Kevan and threw him out of the window. Just as a light hit him.

  He felt a heat rip into his very being, ripping apart his cells, molecule by molecule. As his chest exploded out into light, his world went black. All he saw was an infinity of stars as his eyes evaporated from his face. As his skin and bones turned into ash, August felt his very death.

  11

  War of the gods

  Two thousand years ago, before August was killed by a mysterious light, before August had killed his father in a fit of rage, sending him down a path of ruin. Before the gods had organized and built a government of subjection and tyranny, the gods were young and naïve, unknowing of a world without the guidance of their creator, He.

  Humans lived peacefully on the greens of the Earth below the heavens. The gods in the heavens were distant and detached, uninvolved in the daily musings of the humans. It was a diffe
rent time, a time where He was still highly praised, where He still watched over his creations, the humans, the gods, and the world.

  A time when his judgement was just and fair.

  Too fair to Queen. Queen stood over a mountain top, staring at the world below. She stood on her own mountain, a place unscalable by normal human means.

  The sky was as bright as high noon. The sun never had a cloud to block its embrace in the land of the gods, as they stood above the clouds themselves.

  She stared at the Eye of the World. A view of the entire world was in her sights. With a thought, the Eye of the World zoomed onto a small human village. To anyone else, it would have looked like she was simply staring out into the endless expanse that was the Earth, through a small hole in the sky.

  But to herself, the world around her ivory tower was focused on that small human village. Like a boundless magnifying glass. The gods’ own way of looking into the world.

  She watched as the humans worked on their farm lands, tending their crops.

  She nearly spit off the side of her mountain.

  She hated them. The vermin. They lived so peacefully in the god’s image.

  He himself had told her that the gods were made in his image and yet, He had made the human’s in the very same image.

  Only they were weaker, each one less significant and more expendable than the gods. They were dirty, murderous, diseased monkeys. A fact she still believed even though He had told her otherwise.

  Why did He make them? What was so wrong with the gods that he decided to make the humans?

  Queen remembered back to her birth.

  She was made from the Wavering Radiant, as all life was. The first thing she had remembered was simply opening her eyes and seeing He standing above her. Her father, her creator. To her eyes, He was a woman of impeccable beauty, her face never unblurring but still the beauty of creation.

  At that time, Queen hadn’t known that each being saw He in their own personal image. She didn’t know if He was male or female. He simply was He. She was still simple-minded and primitive. She stood in front of He, bare in her child-like body, and He was the same.