Godcraft [Prologue]- S.A.W. [updated]

Godcraft – Prologue
By S.A.W. (A.K.A. – Steven A.W.)

Countless eras throughout history—they thought too grand of themselves, deceived by a consensus reality, a structure of lies that when placed against time—its fragility was undeniable.

Blind to how far from truth they truly were—making claims and absurd demands, all to realize, they had made irreversible errors.

For an immense structure—whether material or intellectual, a reliable foundation is a critical necessity. Every empire needs a foundation capable of supporting it or else it is destined to collapse.

Great men discerned a pattern—embedded into the fabric of existence. Over a millennia before the known world had been shattered. The temptation of their curiosity, it awakened a force.

A bridge forged by the eternal—its gaze fell unto the soul of Earth. The shattering of the shrouded wall, an extraction of black fangs. Anub’dra, humanity’s fabled empire—challenged the infinite.

Anub’dra was the United Realm, capital city; Anktal. A superpower of Earth that quaked the known world. The Crimson Pharaoh Vitep was to thank for vast geographical unity. His unrivaled intelligence, wisdom, and combative prowess echoed beyond—his name, spoken with reverence.

He had the peculiar ability to find solutions within complexity. Finding the truth of the unseen that lurked within what could be seen.

He made bold challenges to superstition—old ways of thinking, dismantling them through their flawed construction.

It became apparent early on, he was fit to rule—leaving countless with an emergent certainty that he was chosen by the Gods. Vitep’s rise to power began at the age of 20, over 3 centuries after the Cataclysm. The age of bronze, devoured by an unending hunger. 347 solar cycles had passed—the residual fractures within civilization still apparent. Amidst a land survey, a monolithic deposit was discovered—Egypt desired expansion, what lurked within it—expansion became inevitable. It was enriched in precious metals—and other materials. There were many smaller deposits in the proximity, but there was a central concentration that could not be rivaled.

The discovery of the monolithic deposit brought immense ambition,  inevitability of extension—through diplomacy, through war, and collective determination.

It sparked a revolution—as if the Gods challenged them. Many saw it as an honor, a privilege—a chance to serve a higher purpose. It led to a consensus, a desire to contribute, to sacrifice—all for the dream of a better world, and to be noticed by the Gods.

Their explorations were daring—often costly, no sacrifice seemingly too great at times. A band of men, lost–without hope, stumbled upon a chamber, several were estranged—as if from beyond Earth. Another thread of the unmasking, of the mirror? What would they see? A dream? Perhaps nothing? Perhaps everything they weren’t but claimed to be.


Within it were books, but unlike any they had ever known. Bound in unbreakable metallic threads—encased, a seam was visible, but it did not yield. A young Vitep managed to decipher them—not without cost, one he never named and within them, he began to truly see. But something more peculiar occurred—to others, he was unusually curious, and to himself, he felt a pull he couldn’t articulate.

Within the ancient relics revealed an ocean of knowledge—his core revelation, “All material before us contains within it the dormant potential and complete capacity of matter, every unrealized variance in reality. From the foundational to the greater latent building block dynamics of existence. An inconceivably vast or perhaps infinite range of utility that matter can be modified and manipulated into serving.”

The cases however, were another monolith—a beast of greater demands.

Initially, it was expected he’d decipher it within days, but his efforts would last another five years. A maddening endeavor, one—that nearly devoured him. As if, it taunted him. Merely granting him the books—all to tease his efforts.

Then one day, within frustration—as if without trying, they simply unlocked. They contained two relics—garnering the potential to cause a cosmic apocalypse. An interface system identified one to be named; The Dreaming Universe, and the other, Reality’s Veil. Their origins, unknown, but they became a pillar within Vitep’s rule.

After the relics had been deciphered—he studied religiously, gradually earning the support of various social figures, powerful or not, maintaining a discrete profile of his discoveries and ambitions. There was a price he paid in isolation.

Where does the line between dreams and reality begin? Can we really tell ourselves, truth is within the boundaries of frail comfort? What if the answers we seek can only be found in death? Do we dare open such a door?

The burden of knowing—of the wonder of what laid beyond the gate.

In years to follow came the period of applying the knowledge—his devotion to learning, never lessening.

Anub’dra needed a ruler fit for longevity. Many believed that Vitep was the most worthy—his youth was hardly acknowledged. Many also had doubts, and new superstitions arose around him. That he was a harbinger, a bringer of damnation. That his aims were rooted in hubris.

He reached for the infinite. The greatest mistake he thought he ever made.

His reign was not met without tragedy, and foundation destroying uncertainty.

Vitep remained Pharaoh until he passed at the age of 51.

This was brought about from a creeping residual rot—inflicted onto him in the final battle against Vahdjia, Goddess of rot.

He discerned a pattern, it pulled at him like the relics—leading to her lair 5 years prior to his passing. All who ventured into it were subjected to this incurable rot, eventually perishing like Vitep. A fetid necrosis of flesh, driving its victims into the infinite depths of insanity and writhing madness. Her methods were nothing short of soul gouging, warping the seams of reality. Causing truth, love, and every certainty of man to fall into unraveling entropy.

Even with Vitep possessing mythical power, Vahdjia nearly brought Earth and humanity to its knees. A seventeen year war raged across the planet. Humanity wanted to believe they won, but they didn’t—horror was simply forestalled.

It said, her essence was forged within the collapsing heart of a dying paradox. For unknown eons, she slumbered in the dormant depths of Earth’s Atlantic Ocean, awakened by a disturbance.

The forsaken dreams of the damned yielded their cries, blinded by suffering and grief. A chasm of malice unshackled its maw, making quick use of frail hope. Fracturing the lives of the innocent, synthesizing oceans of hatred in her wake.