"Oh, my dear child," the voice echoed in his mind, tinged with a deep sorrow, "You are the only one left, the last sliver of hope we have."

"W-Who are you?" Ender rasped, his voice dry and cracked from disuse. The very foundation of his sanity felt like crumbling sand.

A pause stretched between them, heavy with unspoken despair. Finally, the voice sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of ages.

"Who am I? ... I forgot my real name a long, long time ago. It doesn't matter anymore. I am the Will of this dying world," it spoke, the words imbued with a profound weariness.

Understanding flickered in Ender's eyes, swiftly extinguished by a wave of confusion. "The Will of the world...?" he stammered. Everything felt surreal, a waking nightmare blurring the lines between reality and delusion.

Suddenly, the world around him dissolved. A blinding white light engulfed him, replacing the desolation with a sensation of profound peace. No darkness, no gnawing hunger, no relentless fight for survival. Just… peace. He hadn't felt this in decades, perhaps centuries.

Stunned by this abrupt shift, he spun around, his aged body reacting with surprising agility. And there she stood, the most exquisite woman he had ever seen. Her attire was simplicity itself - a long, flowing white dress adorned with delicate silver threads. Her raven hair cascaded down her back, adorned with intricate ornaments that shimmered with an otherworldly light. Her face, flawless and oval-shaped, held a heartbreaking beauty accentuated by the tears of blood that streamed down her cheeks.

For a moment, Ender could only stare, speechless. Then, he shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs of disbelief. "Who… what are you?" he stammered, his voice hoarse.

A sad smile graced her lips, a stark contrast to the tears tracing crimson paths down her porcelain skin. With a flick of her wrist, the white light coalesced, forming a platform before them. Upon it, a holographic image flickered to life – a grotesque monstrosity, its obsidian skin shimmering under the storm's fury, its eyes burning with malevolent hunger. It was the Darkain, attacking the very veins of light that pulsed beneath the ground.

"I can hold him off for a little while," the woman explained, her voice soft yet laced with urgency. "Five minutes, at most."

"But what can I do? It's all lost," Ender said, his voice thick with despair and a tinge of resentment. A million questions bubbled within him – who was she? Why hadn't the Will of the world intervened before, when his world was still teeming with life? There was so much he needed to know, but somewhere deep down, he knew this wasn't the time.

"I understand your anger," she said, her voice gentle, as if she could peer into the depths of his soul. "You have many questions, and I wouldn't blame you for hating me. But please, Ender, we're running out of time."

He clenched his fists, a surge of anger battling with the knowledge of their dire situation. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice hard yet laced with a sliver of hope.

She offered him a hand, a warm smile blooming on her face. "Come with me," she said, her voice a soothing balm to his raging emotions.

Without hesitation, Ender grasped her hand. The world dissolved around them once more, replaced by the inky blackness of space. He gasped, a primal fear gripping him as he saw his beloved Rion – his home – half-destroyed, a gaping wound on its surface. It seemed to hang precariously in space, like a fragile ornament about to shatter.

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"This is what's left of me, of this planet," she said, her voice heavy with sorrow. With a flick of her wrist, the scene shifted. This time, Ender witnessed a horrifying spectacle – planets much like his own, populated by humans, dwarfs, elves, and other fantastical beings – all ravaged by the same grotesque creatures he faced now.

The images blurred into a montage of destruction. Each planet, vibrant and teeming with life, succumbed to the Darkains' insatiable hunger.

A wave of sadness washed over Ender. He wasn't just witnessing the destruction of worlds; he was feeling the collective grief of countless lost civilizations. 'How many have fallen?' he thought, a cold dread settling in his stomach. 'How many civilizations, how many dreams extinguished by these monsters? Rion could be next. No, it will be next. But I won't let it end here. Not without a fight.' The images blurred into a white void once more. He stood frozen, his mind reeling from the sheer enormity of what he had witnessed. The Darkains weren't just a threat to Rion; they were a plague consuming galaxies, leaving behind nothing but lifeless husks.

"Rion is the last one," the woman said, her words echoing in the vast emptiness. "The last planet left in this corner of the universe. After your death, and the destruction of Rion, this entire galaxy will be devoid of life. The Darkains will simply move on, their hunger sated for a time, until they find another unsuspecting corner of the cosmos to ravage."

The weight of this revelation crashed upon Ender like a meteor. He was the last survivor, not just of his world, but of an entire galactic civilization. A wave of despair threatened to engulf him, but a flicker of defiance sparked in his eyes. He wouldn't go down without a fight.

"But… what can I do?" he rasped. "I'm just one old man, broken and weary. How can I possibly hope to defeat such a monstrous force?"

A hint of sorrow clouded the woman's beautiful face. "There is only one hope," she said. "And though it may sound fantastical, it is our only chance."

Intrigued despite his anguish, Ender leaned in, a thirst for knowledge battling the exhaustion gnawing at him. "What hope?"

A gentle smile touched her lips. "For the first time in my existence," she began, "I am not alone. Every world the Darkains have devoured… every planet snuffed out by their insatiable hunger… possesses a Will like me."

Ender's brow furrowed. "A Will?"

"Yes," she explained, her voice gaining a note of power. "The collective spirit, the life essence of a world. We are the embodiment of a planet's soul, its will to survive."

A glimmer of understanding dawned on Ender. "So… the other Wills… they're here too?"

She nodded, her hand gesturing behind him. Slowly, a multitude of ethereal figures materialized from the white light, their forms shimmering like translucent crystals. Sorrow and defiance radiated from them, a silent testament to the worlds they had lost.

"These are the Wills of the fallen planets," the woman explained. "Together, for the first time, we are united in a single purpose – your survival, Ender. We can offer you something that has never been attempted before – a surge of collective power, a chance to fight back."

Ender stared at the gathering of Wills, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within him. Hope, long dormant, flickered to life. But with it came a new wave of fear. This power they offered… was it enough? Could he, a single man, become the instrument of their vengeance, the last stand against a galaxy-consuming threat?

As if sensing his doubt, the woman extended her hand, her touch surprisingly warm.

"We believe in you, Ender," she said, her voice filled with unwavering conviction. "You are the culmination of generations, the embodiment of your world's fighting spirit. With our combined essence, you have the potential to become something more – a warrior, a beacon of hope for a galaxy on the brink of oblivion."

Ender looked into her tear-filled eyes, seeing not just his own despair reflected therein, but the unyielding spirit of countless lost civilizations. Shame tinged with a steely resolve hardened his features. He wouldn't let them down. He wouldn't let Rion be another casualty in this cosmic war.

Taking a deep breath, Ender met her gaze, his voice ringing with newfound determination. "What do I need to do?"