CHAPTER 22: THE DEPTHS OF TRIGON
EXT. EARTH'S REALM – NIGHT
The sky rips open with a deafening roar, like torn flesh spilling fire and shadow into the world below. The earth trembles violently.
From the rift, TRIGON, the Destroyer, emerges—his six burning eyes scanning the world beneath him with twisted amusement.
TRIGON
(his voice a thousand screams)
“You are not trembling. That is... amusing.”
THE ARCHITECT stands calmly amidst the chaos, his coat flowing gently despite the storm around him. His hands rest behind his back, completely unshaken.
THE ARCHITECT
(calm, precise)
“Why would I tremble? I was expecting you.”
Trigon leans forward, his massive, terrifying form looming over the earth. His voice turns icy with contempt.
TRIGON
(mocking)
“Then you are a fool. I am beyond expectation.”
The Architect raises a hand, and the entire battlefield shifts. The ground beneath Trigon stabilizes, and the raging sky begins to calm. For the first time in eons, Trigon hesitates.
TRIGON
(confused, agitated)
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”
THE ARCHITECT
(with quiet authority)
“You believe yourself inevitable. A cosmic certainty. But that is your flaw. Inevitability is a design. And I... am the designer.”
Trigon’s eyes burn with fury. He slashes the air with his claws, tearing reality apart, but the Architect is gone. Only a void where he stood.
TRIGON
(roaring in frustration)
“YOU THINK YOU CAN CONTROL ME?!”
Trigon’s claws rip through the sky and strike the earth, causing the world to tremble, sending shockwaves of energy that tear through the land. But the Architect appears again, calmly standing before him, unscathed.
THE ARCHITECT
(softly, almost contemplative)
“Your strength does not define you. It only reveals your limits.”
Trigon roars in fury, unleashing a wave of energy so intense it twists the very air around them. But the Architect raises a hand, and the energy bends—redirected and dispersed into harmless fragments. The sheer force of Trigon’s attack falters, dissipating like dust in the wind.
TRIGON
(snarling)
“Enough of your games, Architect. I am the end of all things. The Destroyer!”
Trigon lurches forward, his form a blur of power. He swipes again, but this time, his claws meet nothing—the Architect vanishes just before the strike lands. The ground cracks and buckles beneath Trigon’s weight as he roars again in frustration, his claws raking the sky.
TRIGON
(furious, eyes blazing)
“I WILL BREAK THIS!”
THE ARCHITECT
(appearing once more behind him)
“Your rage is nothing but a pattern. And patterns can be bent.”
The Architect raises both hands, and reality begins to warp around Trigon. The ground shifts beneath his feet, walls of light and shadow closing in around him, trapping him within an ever-changing labyrinth. Trigon’s massive form thrashes in the maze, but the walls move, the ground constantly shifting just out of his reach. His own power seems to turn against him as the maze rearranges itself faster and faster.
TRIGON
(furious, thrashing)
“I WILL BREAK THIS!”
He charges the walls with blinding speed, but they shift at the last moment, and Trigon slams into them, shaking the entire realm. He growls, his eyes blazing with burning energy as he tears through the shifting landscape.
TRIGON
(voice shaking with growing uncertainty)
“Why can’t I…? What is this?”
THE ARCHITECT
(appearing in front of him, his voice calm yet carrying an unshakable weight)
“You were never in control, Trigon. You believed you were inevitable. Unstoppable. But you were always just part of a design. My design.”
Trigon, his form now disjointed, stands still—not dead, not destroyed. He is trapped within a design he cannot break, his power ebbing away, but not gone.
The Architect watches as the destructive force struggles against the system he has woven. But he does not kill him. He does not erase him. He simply contains him—rewriting the rules of the conflict, leaving no direct outcome, just an unresolved force held within limits.
The Architect steps back, calmly turning away.
TRIGON
(a voice full of dark defiance, fading as if speaking from the depths of a never-ending void)
“You may contain me, Architect... but you can never truly break me.”
The Architect does not respond, but his eyes gleam faintly as he walks away. Trigon’s presence lingers, a smoldering, eternal force locked in place.
The world begins to settle. The destructive power subsides. And the Architect, with a small, almost imperceptible nod, continues forward—unmoved, untouched, but always aware.
FADE OUT.
YOU ARE READING
The Book Of Origin: Codex Architectus
Fantasy"The Book of Origin: Codex Architectus" The universe wasn't born. It was written. Before time, the Architect carved reality into pages-then vanished. What's left behind is the Codex: a living manuscript that rewrites everything you thought was true...
