"How I met your mother?"
With a warm smile, a young blue-haired man, seemingly in his early thirties, asked as he stared at his two children who sat in front of him on wooden chairs.
Both the young boy and the young girl were no older than eight.
They sat in the garden just outside the modest building of their peaceful home.
The young blue-haired boy, with a large, innocent smile and a vibrant pair of blue widened eyes, stared at his father, nodding.
"Yes! Tell us, tell us!"
The boy's younger sister, a cute, brown and blue-haired girl nodded in agreement, her widened eyes twinkling with curiosity.
"Yes, dad! Tell us! How did you meet mom?! You promised to tell us soon!"
Maxwell, seeing the excited expression on his kid's faces, let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as the warm feeling of happiness soaked his heart.
"Are you both ready to listen? It's a long story."
The young girl squealed in excitement.
"Don't worry dad, we'll listen!"
"Yeah!" The son supported. "We have a lot of time!"
The moment Maxwell heard his son's words, his warm smile turned… somber. He narrowed his eyes, taking in a deep breath as he stared at the rising sun above.
"Time, huh." He whispered.
After a short recollection of memories, Maxwell thought:
'I really have seen it all.'
"Well," he chuckled, looking at his wide-eyed kids. "It began a long.. while ago…"
***
Hushed whispers echoed through a vast hall.
The golden walls of the hall shimmered faintly under the brilliant clusters of colorful light that rained from the transparent roof.
The roof was made of glass, and they overlooked a starry sky responsible for the shimmering light.
But it couldn't be called a 'sky,' because the hall itself floated in the infinite expanse of space, although far from the stars.
In the middle of the hall, a large, long table crafted with glass stretched wide with various golden seats perfectly arranged and tucked inside the table.
And on the northern end of the table, a figure sat on one of the largest golden seats.
This figure, with an oval-shaped wrinkled face slightly touched by the long strands of faded blue hair that rested over his forehead, pursed his lips. His blue eyes peeked through openings in his bangs as he gazed at the stars above. The colorful light reflected on his eyes.
Maxwell sighed.
'My end is near.'
As he thought about this, he smiled bitterly.
It wasn't like Maxwell had never thought about it before. He had. But this was the first time he had verbalized those thoughts. And the weights of those four words pressed down on his mind.
And with the weight came along something he hadn't felt in a very long time.
Fear.
The fear of truth and of understanding.
The Divine Entity, Maxwell didn't fear death. And the reason for this wasn't because death carried no accompanying pain, or that death was sweet.
No, it was simply because he had lived.
The eternal god of water's name was etched on the very fabric of reality. And his imprint on the Cacosphere — an enclosure of multiverses — wasn't one to be scoffed at.
He had built a legacy as one of the ten guardians of this Cacosphere. He could die happy.
And the very understanding of that made him fear. It made his bones ache, his wrinkly body shiver, and his spine tingle.
He opened his mouth for a second. Maybe he wanted to speak once more of his regrets, lament of his lost love again for the millionth time, curse himself for understanding, or maybe he just wanted to sigh.
Whatever it was he wanted to do, he couldn't do it because his lips remained suspended. Frozen in place.
'I do know,' He thought, 'Every being — no matter the height that they have achieved, and no matter the status they have risen to — must return to the mother tree's embrace.'
"But, I don't want to go yet… I still need to find a way to hold Rita's hands again. I have searched for a way for eons, all to no avail," he murmured with a hoarse voice. "But I know that if I keep searching, I'll find it. I know that–"
The creaking sound of an opening door bellowed.
Maxwell's eyes widened slightly.
Tak–Tak–!
Light footsteps echoed.
The atmosphere around Maxwell stirred under the force of a dark divinity.
"Maxwell, when would you give up?" A chilling, deep voice rang through the halls.
The eternal god turned his head, gazing at the source of that deep voice.
Said voice had a tone much different from Maxwell's. It oozed with something that hung on a thin rope made between the boundaries of confidence and... arrogance.
Maxwell's lips pressed together. And they widened, forming a fake smile.
A facade that he'd learned to wear to avoid the perception of weakness for eons. A mask that he only let slip when he was alone.
Currently, the Cacospheric guardian gazed at a 'man' whose body was hidden by a deep, dark coat.
The material from which the coat was made was one that Maxwell knew all too well. It pulsed through the cracked spaces of the Cacosphere.
It was darkness.
The 'man' was dressed in a garment of darkness.
The darkness, flowing in liquid form, trailed behind this 'man' on the marble floor as he majestically walked from the entrance of the hall toward Maxwell.
Maxwell's gaze deviated from the man's coat, ascending to meet his eyes.
Two deep orbs of swirling black mist were what rested on the man's eye sockets.
Maxwell's gaze softened, and he turned away from the him, staring up at the stars once more.
"You ask me that while knowing very well what kind of being I am. I will never give up." Maxwell responded with an undertone that carried a soft mixture of spite and vulnerability.
As this darkness enshrouded entity arrived at Maxwell's side, he placed a palm on the god's shoulder as he, too, looked up at the stars.
"Why? Does she really mean that much to you? Even after so much time has passed?" The entity asked.
An utterly ridiculous question.
Maxwell fought every single day to quell the feeling of longing in his heart. But it grew stronger by the day, and as the feeling grew, the memories that came with them played through his mind at every given moment.
But the dark entity was right in a way.
Having lived for centuries, experiencing all the divine and fantastical things the Cacosphere had to offer, it was expected of a god like Maxwell to had moved on and forgotten all about some millennium old mortal memories.
But strangely, this stubborn old Maxwell never forgot about them, evidenced by the way they messed with his mind.
How could he? After all, to him, he was mortal and human at core. He never really wanted to be an all powerful transcendent or a god. All he ever wanted since he could remember was a calm, loving life with his wife, Rita.
But fate always had other plans for the least expecting souls. And without any warning, it destroyed his warm and peaceful life on the day of that calamity back then in his mortal world, plunging both him and Malin into the fiery pit of despair that they fought for years to conquer and eventually transcend.
He could never forget about all of it.
And so, deep within his heart, superseding these dreadful memories were the memories precious to him, as they were the only gifts that Rita had left him with. But — as precious as the memories were — they were still a curse because they haunted him, and they caused his mind to spiral on days when he tried hard to concentrate.
Maxwell breathed in.
"Your question is… it makes no sense, Malin. You have known me far longer than anyone else in this council has. We have been friends ever since we were mortals. You knew Rit–"
"She perished centuries ago, Maxwell. Her soul never returned to The Mother Tree's embrace. We both searched. Her soul must have..."
"I know, Malin! I know! It might have disintegrated, but still… it doesn't hurt to try, does it? If I keep searching hard enough, I will find it, will I not? Surely, it must be possible, isn't it?"
"..."
Malin remained silent. He lowered his dark gaze, staring straight into Maxwell's blue eyes.
The dull blue pupils of the guardian of eternal water trembled.
Through his trembling eyes, Malin could feel the depth of Maxwell's pitiful pain; he always had. Ever since the day of that accident.
"Answer me, Malin! It's possible, right?" Maxwell asked again. This time, his throat trembled, and his jaws followed suit.
Malin, the dark entity, sighed, closing his eyes.
"We both know the answer to this, my friend."
Maxwell let out a forced, shaky exhale, extending his palms to lay his face on them.
Malin crouched, leaning toward Maxwell as he rested Maxwell's head on his shoulder.
The dark entity's lush skin grew pale as he comforted Maxwell. He bit his lips, and his gaze lightened as he seemed to be heavily contemplating something.
Eventually, he resigned himself with a soft sigh.
At that moment, Malin, who, for centuries had witnessed the pain of his friend with whom he walked through life and death with, could no longer hide his knowledge.
The entity furrowed his brows, lips parting as his breath became more tender.
"Maxwell… there is.. one way."
Maxwell raised his head, eyes narrowing slightly.
"What?"
The Celestial God of Darkness gazed into The God of Eternal Water's blue eyes. Then, with a hushed voice, he spoke:
"Your time is near. And so is mine. It means we have nothing more to lose, and much to gain if this works. So," Malin's voice hushed down. "Why don't we break one of the ten absolute rules proffered by the Celestial King?"
Maxwell widened his eyes, bewildered.
He blinked, hesitating to ask 'what?' because he very much knew the consequences of breaking even one of the ten absolute rules. But still, the eternal god couldn't swallow his curiosity, and he asked with a low voice:
"What… What rule might that be?"
Malin's gaze eased, and his lips widened into a warm smile.
"The rule of time manipulation."