The King’s Path

Edward stumbled through the darkened corridors of Inferno Park, his breath unsteady and his thoughts racing. The visions—the truths he had just witnessed—clung to his mind like a shadow, refusing to let go. His chest felt tight, his head a storm of questions and emotions.

The gods are parasites. Humanity has been used. Gilgamesh… died for the truth.

He stopped for a moment, leaning against the cold stone wall to steady himself. His heart pounded as if it were trying to escape his chest, but it wasn't fear he felt. It was something else—an unrelenting spark of fury and determination.

"Why me?" he muttered under his breath, clenching his fists. "Why the hell did it have to be me to carry this burden ? Wasn't my life already messed up enough!"

He pushed himself upright, his legs feeling like lead as he made his way back toward the others.

When Edward returned to the park's main plaza, he spotted Anastasia and Hellaina near one of the food stands, their arms laden with sugary treats and overpriced souvenirs. They were laughing, the glow of the park's dim lights reflecting in their eyes. For a moment, Edward felt a pang of envy.

They don't know the truth. They don't have to carry this weight.

But as he approached, their smiles faded, replaced by concern.

"Edward!" Anastasia called, her white hair glinting faintly in the low light. She hurried over to him, her blue eyes scanning his face. "Where have you been? You look… off."

Hellaina joined her, tilting her head as she studied him. "Yeah, you look like you've seen a ghost—or a dozen of them. Did something happen?"

Edward forced a grin, though he could feel it faltering. "I'm fine," he said quickly, brushing past them. "Just needed some air."

Hellaina wasn't convinced. She stepped in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Uh-uh, not so fast. You look like you're about to snap in half. Seriously, what's going on?"

Edward shrugged off her hand, his tone sharper than he intended. "I said I'm fine."

The girls exchanged a glance. Anastasia's brows furrowed with worry, but Hellaina's emerald eyes narrowed, catching something Anastasia hadn't.

"You're lying," Hellaina said bluntly. "You're not 'fine.' You're…" She trailed off, her gaze hardening. "You're hiding something."

Edward froze for a moment, his body tense. He couldn't tell them—not yet. How could he even begin to explain what he'd seen? What he'd learned?

"I just… need to get some rest," he said finally, forcing his voice to sound calm. "I'll see you both later."

Before either of them could protest, Hellaina stepped forward and pulled him into a tight hug.

It wasn't a comforting gesture. Her arms were firm, her grip unrelenting, and her voice low as she whispered into his ear. "You'd better not be doing something stupid, Edward. If you are, I'll drag it out of you one way or another."

The pressure of her hold and her pointed words made Edward stiffen, but he forced himself to nod. "Noted."

Hellaina released him with a smirk, but there was a sharpness in her eyes that told him she wasn't done prying.

"Goodbye, Ed," she said, her voice laced with a mix of playfulness and warning.

Anastasia watched the exchange in silence, her arms crossed. As Hellaina turned away, Edward caught a flicker of something in Anastasia's expression—something unfamiliar.

Jealousy?

"See you later, Anastasia," Edward said, his voice softer this time.

She hesitated, then nodded. "Take care, Edward."

Edward turned and walked away, the weight of their gazes lingering on his back.

When Edward returned home, the familiar creak of the front door and the scent of his aunt Julia's cooking did little to ease the turmoil in his mind.

"Edward?" Julia called from the kitchen. "You're back late. Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Edward replied, his voice hollow. "Just tired."

He climbed the stairs to his room, ignoring the faint clatter of dishes as his aunt continued preparing dinner. Once inside, he shut the door behind him and collapsed onto his bed.

For a long time, he stared at the ceiling, his mind replaying the visions he'd seen.

The rise and fall of Uruk. The betrayal of the gods. The rebellion of Gilgamesh.

He fought so hard, and in the end, he still lost.

Edward's fists clenched as the image of Gilgamesh's final moments burned in his mind. The defiant king, laughing in the face of death, vowing that humanity would rise again.

But would they?

Edward let out a bitter laugh. "What am I supposed to do, huh? I'm not Gilgamesh. I'm not a king. I can't take on the gods or the Outer Ones—not the way I am now."

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. His thoughts were a chaotic mess, torn between fear, anger, and an undeniable sense of purpose.

After several agonizing hours of doubt and deliberation, Edward finally stood and walked over to his desk.

There, sitting in the corner, was Kanshou and Byakuya, the married swords he had forged just days ago. He picked them up, the weight of the weapons grounding him.

"These were just the beginning," he murmured, his grip tightening. "Ahnavat forged a weapon that defied even the gods. If I can truly master his abilities… if I can surpass him…"

His gaze hardened, a flicker of madness dancing in his eyes.

"I'll become strong enough that not even the gods can stop me."

Edward set the swords down, his mind made up.

No matter how long it took, no matter how many obstacles he faced, he would rise. He would uncover the full truth of this world, reclaim humanity's lost legacy, and carve out a future free from divine chains. Edward brought out a book he borrowed from the library and rummaged through, until he came under a specific section.

Hastur, the shepherd of the stars

Legends tell of a time when Hastur descended upon the first civilizations that gazed too deeply into the night sky, gifting them the Yellow Sign—an arcane symbol beyond mortal comprehension. The symbol did not grant power, nor wealth, but rather knowledge. 

Those who gazed upon it found themselves burdened with visions of the great cosmic order, glimpses of the horrifying truths that lurked beyond human perception.

Some embraced it, ascending to levels of enlightenment beyond human capacity; others fell into madness, their minds unraveling beneath the weight of incomprehensible truths.

Many believe that the Yellow Sign is not just a symbol, but a mark of his presence. It appears subtly—etched into the subconscious of those who yearn for greater knowledge, hidden within ancient texts, or even in the stars themselves.

To perceive it is to invite his gaze, and to speak his name is to invite his whispers into one's thoughts.

Once a silent shepherd, Hastur now became a whispering plague, infecting the minds of scholars, kings, and rulers across the cosmos. His influence stretches not through brute force, but through the insidious power of ideas, planting doubts and revelations that slowly unravel the very foundations of civilizations.

Hastur's domain is said to be Aldebaran, a distant star system that mortals can only perceive in their dreams. Within its burning light lies Carcosa, the city of lost souls—an endless expanse of shifting towers, pale spires, and mist-laden streets where time and space collapse into a singularity of despair.

Those who are lured there by his whispers find themselves trapped in an eternal masquerade, wearing masks they cannot remove, dancing to music they can no longer hear.

It is said that Hastur resides within the grand Palace of Ash, a place where the stars themselves gather to share their silent, weeping tales. He sits upon a throne of forgotten constellations, watching as reality unfolds according to his subtle manipulations.

His servants, faceless and draped in tattered yellow robes, wander through the streets of Carcosa, searching for lost souls to usher into his eternal court.

Those who stray too far into the unknown, who question the nature of reality itself, are said to receive invitations—beautiful yet dreadful letters scrawled in golden ink, beckoning them to "join the King in Yellow."

He does not shout; he does not rage. Instead, he whispers—subtly, insidiously, like a voice at the back of the mind. His influence is not one of brute force, but of gentle suggestion.

Rulers plagued with doubt, scholars lost in their pursuit of truth, warriors questioning the purpose of their endless battles—these are the souls most susceptible to Hastur's call.

A simple thought, a fleeting doubt, a lingering curiosity, and his presence seeps into their minds like ink in water. He offers knowledge, insight, and truths, but with a cost:

"Do you truly wish to know?"

Those who answer "yes" are never the same again. Some rise to greatness, wielding knowledge that reshapes the course of history, while others crumble, their sanity devoured by the weight of forbidden truths.

The Fear of Hastur: It is said that even the gods fear Hastur, for knowledge is a weapon as potent as any divine wrath. The Heroic Council, despite their power, actively suppresses any mention of the Yellow Sign, burning books and silencing scholars who delve too deeply into his myths. They know that his power lies not in monstrous might, but in the erosion of belief, order, and reality itself.

Even among the Outer Gods, Hastur is whispered about with caution. He does not war like Cthulhu, nor does he devour like Shub-Niggurath—he simply waits, watching patiently, sowing seeds of despair across the fabric of existence.

To speak his name is to acknowledge him. To see his symbol is to invite him in. And once he has entered your thoughts... he never truly leaves.

Conclusion: The Eternal Watcher, Hastur, the Shepherd of the Stars, is not an enemy one can fight with swords or magic. His weapon is knowledge, and his battlefield is the mind. He does not conquer through armies but through whispers, unraveling empires one thought at a time.

And as humanity continues to reach further into the cosmos, the question remains—how many have already heard his call?

As the first rays of dawn broke through his window, Edward stood by his desk, his expression calm yet resolute.

"Gilgamesh," he said softly, his voice steady. "You didn't die in vain. I don't know why you chose me, but I won't waste this chance. I'll finish what you started."

And with that, Edward stepped into the new day, ready to begin his journey toward the impossible.