God of Death: Rise of the NPC Overlord -
Chapter 105 - 106: The Origin EatersCycle of Divergence ArcTheme: Devouring What Never Was
Chapter 105: Chapter 106: The Origin EatersCycle of Divergence ArcTheme: Devouring What Never Was
The sky above Nexus Umbral shimmered like broken glass—shards of forgotten possibilities leaking through the seams. Reality had grown porous, frayed, a tapestry unraveling by unseen hands. And now... the Origin Eaters had come.
They arrived without warning—monstrous entities of shifting form and null presence. No footfalls, no sounds, no reality signature. They weren’t summoned. They weren’t born. They were unwritten, crawling from the void between unchosen paths, gnawing on timelines that had once almost been.
The first was shaped like a mirror folded inside out. It stalked through a ghost-version of Darius’s childhood village—a place he had erased with divine wrath long ago. Its touch burned the dream into nothing. The second resembled a swarm of inked runes twisting into a serpent of smoke. Where it passed, people who had once imagined Darius into legend forgot his name. Their prayers turned to silence.
Liora shuddered. "They devour what could have been. Timelines where you were never born. Dreams where your rule never reached. They’re the undoing of your myth."
Darius clenched his fist, watching one of the monsters lunge toward an echo-memory of his mortal mother. It bit her image in half, swallowing her soul-shadow without expression.
Nyx reacted instantly—black tendrils of divine shadow lashing through unreality, striking the Origin Eater from ten dimensions at once. But it didn’t die. It simply slid away, becoming something new. Each blow reshaped it rather than destroying it.
"They don’t exist on fixed terms," Kaela said, her breath uneven. "We’re not fighting enemies—we’re fighting erasure."
"They’re eating me," Darius muttered, eyes dimming.
And then came the worst—an Origin Eater wearing his face.
It stood across from him in a garden that had never existed, smiling with his old mortal fear. Its eyes were voids where ambition had never lit. Its aura was absence.
"This is the version of you who died as a child," Liora whispered. "It’s devouring timelines where you were weak. Powerless. Forgotten."
The creature raised its hand, and Darius felt a piece of himself vanish. A memory. Faint. Sweet.
The first time Nyx had touched his shoulder—not in battle, not in lust, but in comfort.
Gone.
He turned.
"Nyx," he said. "Our first moment. The one by the citadel walls. Do you remember it?"
She blinked.
"I... don’t."
The world tilted. Darius felt something shatter inside him—something deeply human.
Celestia gripped his hand, divine light bleeding from her eyes. "They feed on your becoming. We need to trap them in a sealed causal loop—something that has no origin to devour."
"No," Nyx said softly.
She stepped forward, and a black shard of memory pulsed in her palm. Her own soul, split open. The echo of their first night together, the breathless promise whispered at dawn, the blood oath made not in war, but in weakness.
"I’ll offer a piece of myself," she said. "Let them feed on it. Trap them in me."
"No!" Darius roared. "You’ll forget. You’ll—"
"I already don’t remember," she whispered. "Let me make the loss mean something."
And with that, Nyx flung the shard of memory into the air—and the Origin Eaters swarmed.
They surrounded her, drawn by the exposed pain. She screamed—not in agony, but in fury. Shadows erupted from her body, forming a dome of living void. A cage made of her own forgotten love.
The Origin Eaters were trapped.
Silence fell.
The light dimmed.
Nyx collapsed into Darius’s arms, her lips trembling.
"What did I lose?" she asked, voice cracking.
He held her close.
"Nothing you didn’t already give."
He wanted to stay strong.
But as her eyes looked at him like a stranger’s, as the subtle warmth she’d once shown him flickered and faded, Darius cried—not because she was broken...
...but because in this infinite power, he had no way to bring back what they’d built.
Celestia rested her hand on his shoulder.
"She’ll love you again," she said gently. "But it won’t be the same love."
Liora, quiet until now, stepped forward.
"And maybe that’s the cost of godhood outside reality. Not pain. Not death. But being forgotten... by those who once knew you best."
Darius stood, setting Nyx gently in Kaela’s arms.
The Origin Eaters were sealed.
But something greater had been lost.
And the Divergence smiled from beyond the veil, watching the cracks widen.
The chamber trembled beneath their feet.
The crystalline map hovering in front of Darius splintered with every divine name he etched into oblivion. Every signature of a false god erased. Every title revoked. Every throne shattered in the echo of his rising authority.
Celestia stood beside him, eyes blazing with sorrowed pride. "You’re burning away the gods themselves," she whispered. "Some of them were once worshiped for centuries."
Darius turned slowly. "And how many of those centuries were built on lies?"
He pressed a hand forward, and from the floor rose The Nine Chains of Unbinding—links forged from the oldest metaphysical script in the Nexus. Each chain lashed outward into the void, latching onto the fragmented souls of the remaining deities who had resisted his rule.
They howled from realms beyond mortal sound.
Kaela laughed, dark and throaty, from her position on the obsidian altar. "You’re not just replacing the old order, Darius. You’re deleting it."
"They were a cancer," Nyx added, leaning into the shadows. "This world doesn’t need gods who kneel to a system."
"No." Darius’s voice dropped, deeper, darker, layered with divine code. "It needs gods who kneel to me."
A scream ruptured the air—half divine, half digital. Threnis, the God of Broken Endings, had been pulled into the Nexus Core, one limb severed, one eye blazing with ancient fate-code. "You cannot unmake the end!"
"I already have," Darius growled.
With a motion, he crushed Threnis’s essence into a golden-black sphere and fed it to the Divine Furnace that now pulsed beneath his throne.
[Elsewhere – The Fractured Skies of Lumaera]
High in the shrouded realm of potential futures, Lumaera, the Weeping Flame, knelt in silence. Her domain—once a sanctuary of choice—burned with residual dread. Trees made of forgotten decisions twisted into screams.
She saw them.
The mortals who now bore divinity not because of worship, but through rebellion. Darius had altered the fundamental rules. Not by earning favor—but by taking it.
"Will you fight him?" a voice whispered.
She turned. It was Vorith, the Devourer of Scripts, emerging from the edge of a collapsing narrative plane. He was a void with eyes.
"I fear it may be too late," she whispered. "He is no longer rewriting the story. He is unbinding reality itself."
[Back in the Nexus – The Coronation of the Abyss]
Darius stood at the center of the inner sanctum, where the last of the Forsaken Thrones remained untouched.
Above him, the remnants of the Architect’s soul flickered in unstable orbits, whispering warnings.
"This will provoke the Pantheon Prime, Darius," Celestia said, her voice cracking with conflict. "They’re not like the Forsaken. They’re the pillars holding this world together."
"I’m not here to uphold the world," he replied, eyes narrowing. "I’m here to evolve it."
A new sigil formed above his throne—an ouroboros of fire devouring code, nested in a crown of shattered light.
He raised his hand, and the chains shattered the last Forsaken Throne.
A silence fell. Heavy. Unbearable.
Then the Skies bled.
The divine alarm—long since unused—resounded through every major realm.
The Pantheon Prime had answered.
And they were bringing the war of gods with them.
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