On a colossal planet, whose magnitude rivaled that of an expanding universe within the infinite cosmos, a battle of unimaginable proportions was being waged.

A demon of fearsome height and body of blasphemous characteristics faced a bloody combat against an angel wrapped in pure light. Their powers, as antagonistic as they were devastating, clashed with a force capable of tearing the very fabric of reality.

Their battle had left the planet almost in ruins, split in two and with countless fragments scattered through space. The two warriors looked at each other, each on the brink of exhaustion, their primordial essences at the limit of existence.

The demon let out a scream that made all of creation rumble, a sound so deep and terrifying that even distant stars seemed to tremble. He jumped and rose into the air, extending his arm towards the firmament. From his claws burst a ray of negative energy that grew to reach the size of a dying sun, absorbing all light around it.

The angel, in response, emitted a cry of primordial desperation that resonated across dimensions. He raised his hand, emanating a spectral energy that wove the very essence of life and creation.

The two beings launched their attacks, which collided in the center of the cosmic battlefield. The collision generated an explosion of such magnitude that for an instant everything went white, as if the universe itself was holding its breath.

Then, darkness reigned. Only the silence of loneliness was heard, a void so deep that it seemed to devour all existence. Suddenly, wrapped in a black light that defied logic, the demon emerged. His body, bruised and covered in lacerating wounds, was a testimony to the fierce combat. He extended his hand forward, and to his surprise, a white, pure, and warm light emanated.

Several voices were heard from outside this reality, at first unintelligible, like whispers from a distant world. Little by little, a spectral cold sensation became present, and the voices became clear and sharp.

"Wake up, wake up," those voices repeated urgently.

Suddenly, an intrusion materialized in the eyes of the sleeping being. He opened them abruptly, finding himself face to face with who was calling him: a young yhamak, with small horns and light brown skin.

"Thamuz, wake up," said the young man with concern in his voice.

Thamuz rubbed his head, noticing it was soaked in sweat. He sat up slowly, observing his surroundings. He recognized Narek, who was by his side with an expression of relief.

"What... what happened?" asked Thamuz, his voice still trembling from the intensity of his dream.

"You've been sleeping for three days," Narek replied. "We didn't want to wake you up at my father's request, but today you were screaming and writhing in your bed. We feared something terrible was happening to you."

"Three days?" repeated Thamuz, incredulous. He clicked his lips, feeling the dryness in his mouth, and cleared his throat. "Is there water?"

"Yes, I brought a bucket here," said Narek, offering it to him.

Thamuz grabbed the bucket, drinking it eagerly. He drank to the last drop and dropped the bucket, exhaling a sigh of relief.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome," Narek replied.

Thamuz got up from where he was, noticing there was some darkness around him, as if it were a black mist of moderate thickness.

"Your father told me that on the third day of ghurkha everything becomes clearer. Maybe that's why I can see you clearly," said Thamuz, looking at Narek intently.

"Yes, the past days I spent locked in my room. The darkness made me see practically nothing, we even had to shout to locate each other," expressed Narek, with a slight smile on his face.

Thamuz put his hand on his chin, letting a slight symphony leave his mouth, as if it were a lullaby.

"Where are my parents?" he asked.

"Your mother was always here, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching over your sleep, while your father came to visit you occasionally, although he has spent those days training or fighting against my father," Narek replied, looking at the ceiling.

"Typical of him," said Thamuz, walking towards the door of the room.

"Where are you going?" asked Narek.

"I'm going downstairs, I've rested enough," he replied.

"Alright, we're at lunchtime, so I think there's still some food," Narek informed.

"Food?" replied Thamuz, touching his belly. "That would be good."

Thamuz left the room with slow steps, his body still trying to regain energy after a prolonged sleep. His muscles, numb from inactivity, protested with each movement. He went down the stairs, his fingers grazing the ancient wooden handrail, and found himself in the living room. The space was adorned with several fireplaces that emanated flames of an unsettling greenish color, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls.

The air was impregnated with an aroma of spices and roasted meat. Thamuz headed towards the robust oak table in the center of the room, where he visualized large quantities of food arranged on silver trays. He grabbed a succulent piece of meat, juicy and still steaming, from a finely decorated plate. He devoured it while walking towards the backyard, savoring the smoky nuances and aromatic herbs that seasoned it.

Upon reaching the yard, Thamuz stopped in his tracks, amazed by the transformation of the landscape. The environment was plunged into an unnatural darkness, with a grim tone that chilled the blood. A light mist rose before him, snaking between his feet like ghostly fingers. The sun had disappeared completely, eclipsed by the monstrous silhouette of a giant creature that seemed to be devouring the sky itself. Its eyes, like burning embers, fixed on Thamuz for an eternal instant.

Suddenly, several sounds caught his attention. The wet sound of flesh being cut intermingled with the dull impact of something heavy hitting the ground. Intrigued and somewhat fearful, Thamuz hurried towards the origin of those disturbing noises.

What he saw left him speechless. His mother, Aolani, and Yakrare were methodically dismembering the body of a colossal creature with knives of enormous proportions. Their movements were precise and coordinated, as if they were executing a macabre dance. A few meters away, in a combat arena that rivaled those of the main stadium, his father and Armesto fought almost naked, their bodies covered in sweat and dirt.

Aolani, with sharpened maternal senses, immediately detected the presence of an observer. She turned her head to the left and saw Thamuz, who was still absentmindedly chewing the piece of meat. With a fluid gesture, she wiped her bloodied hands on a nearby rag and headed towards her son with a hurried step.

Upon reaching him, Aolani wrapped Thamuz in a fierce embrace, her arms strong as steel but gentle as a feather. Thamuz returned the gesture, caressing his mother's hair and depositing a kiss on her forehead.

"Did you rest well, son?" she asked, her eyes scrutinizing Thamuz's face for signs of fatigue.

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"Yes, a lot. I feel like new," he replied, surprised by the truth in his words.

Yakrare observed the family scene with an enigmatic smile on his lips before returning to his task. Meanwhile, Tawnylon and Armesto continued their combat with fierce intensity.

"You still maintain that perfect defense despite the years," commented Tawnylon, adopting a low stance with his hands in front, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

"This is my innate talent. Let's see if yours can overcome it," responded Armesto, assuming a high position, his right arm raised with an open hand while the left rested near his waist, fist closed and tense.

Tawnylon lunged at his opponent with lightning speed, trying to connect a palm strike. However, Armesto, with superhuman reflexes, caught Tawnylon's wrist in mid-air. In a fluid movement, his left fist impacted his rival's chest with devastating precision.

Tawnylon staggered back, his breath short from the pain. An ironic smile drew on his face as he caught his breath.

"Really? A heartshatter? That's playing dirty, even for you," he complained between gasps and broken laughter, grudgingly admiring his opponent's skill.

"Come on, we all know you could defeat me with a single blow. Don't judge me for using some cunning to face you," said Armesto, sketching a defiant smile that contrasted with the pain in his eyes.

"Alright, if you want to play that way, then I will too," expressed Tawnylon, adopting a high position, bringing his arms towards his body. His muscles visibly tensed under the skin, like steel cords ready to release all their strength.

Armesto assumed the same combat posture as before, his eyes attentive to every movement of his opponent. Trying to anticipate his contender's attack.

Tawnylon lunged at him, feinting the same palm strike as before. Armesto, confident, prepared to intercept it like the previous time. However, in a display of speed and deception, Tawnylon withdrew his palm at the last second, throwing himself back with an agile step. In the blink of an eye, he gathered his body and charged with all his strength, his shoulder turned into an unstoppable battering ram.

The impact was devastating. Armesto was shot out like a human projectile, whistling through the air before crashing into a nearby wall. The collision shook the ground as if a minor earthquake was shaking the place. Pieces of debris and dust filled the air, momentarily obscuring vision.

Tawnylon looked up, his heart pounding in his chest. Through the dust cloud, he saw his friend embedded in the wall, arms hanging limp at his sides.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a note of concern slipping into his normally confident voice.

The silence that followed was deafening. Tawnylon felt time stop, fear growing inside him. Then, to his relief, Armesto coughed and brought a hand to his head with a groan.

"A ghokmeran? You really didn't hold back," said Armesto, chuckling despite the evident pain on his face.

"I got carried away in the moment," explained Tawnylon, walking towards his friend with a mixture of relief and remorse.

Carefully, Tawnylon approached Armesto and freed him from the debris, lifting him in his arms as if he weighed no more than a child. He carried him to a nearby bench, next to which was a gigantic barrel with the lid open. The strong and sweet aroma emanating from the barrel filled the air around them.

After seating Armesto on the bench, Tawnylon submerged a cup in the barrel, extracting an amber-colored liquid that shone with its own light.

"Here, Armesto, to make you feel better," said Tawnylon, offering him the cup with an apologetic smile.

"Well, bandamenas water has saved us countless times, hasn't it, friend?" commented Armesto, bringing the cup to his lips. The sweet and penetrating aroma of the liquid filled his nostrils, promising relief and renewal.

"Without a doubt. It's an emblematic drink of our culture, after all," responded Tawnylon, sitting next to Armesto and directing his gaze towards the gloomy horizon. The sky, still dominated by the silhouette of the colossal creature, seemed closer and more threatening than ever.

Meanwhile, Thamuz stealthily approached his father, his steps barely audible on the stone floor. With the agility of a predator, he raised his arms and lowered them with moderate force onto Tawnylon's shoulders.

The veteran warrior, despite his senses sharpened by years of combat, startled at the sudden touch. He jumped up and turned, his eyes widening as he recognized his son.

"Hello, father," said Thamuz with a mischievous smile, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture.

"Son!" exclaimed Tawnylon, his voice loaded with emotion. Without hesitating for an instant, he lunged towards Thamuz, enveloping him in a bear hug and lifting him off the ground as if he were a small child.

Tawnylon's grip was so powerful that Thamuz felt the air escaping from his lungs. Giving light taps on his father's shoulder, he tried to warn him to loosen his enthusiastic display of affection a bit.

"Oh, sorry," apologized Tawnylon, releasing his son from the hug with an embarrassed smile.

Thamuz inhaled deeply, laughing between gasps at the situation. Having caught his breath, he approached Armesto and placed a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie.

"I was really impressed by that technique you used. What's it called?" asked Thamuz, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity and admiration.

Armesto took another sip from his cup before responding, savoring the revitalizing liquid. "It's called 'heartshatter'. With the right speed and strength, it's capable of killing someone with a single precise blow," he explained, his eyes shining with a mixture of pride and warning. "It's an ancestral technique, passed down from master to disciple for generations. It takes years of practice to perfect its execution."

Thamuz nodded, impressed by the lethality and history behind the technique.

"And how does it work exactly?" he inquired, leaning forward with interest.

Armesto exchanged a look with Tawnylon before continuing.

"The blow is directed at a precise point in the chest, right above the heart. The force of the impact, combined with a specific vibration generated by the user's energy, can stop the heart instantly. In expert hands, it's a deadly technique. In mine... well, let's say your father was lucky that I only use it to stun him," he concluded with an ironic smile.

"Fascinating," responded Thamuz, stroking his chin thoughtfully. His eyes shone with a mixture of wonder and ambition.

"So, son, did you rest well?" asked Tawnylon, his tone brimming with paternal affection.

"Too much. I really needed those three days," answered Thamuz, stretching as if to emphasize his renewed vitality.

"I'm glad to hear it, because your mother and Yakrare are preparing a feast fit for kings," said Tawnylon, directing his gaze towards the imposing piece of meat that the women were skillfully preparing.

Curiosity shone in Thamuz's eyes. "What kind of animal is it?"

"That, my son, is a bhatmin," responded Tawnylon with pride. "A colossal beast more than eight meters long and six meters wide. Armesto brought it down during a hunting expedition and has kept it preserved since then. He decided that your second victory deserved such a feast."

Thamuz turned abruptly towards Armesto, genuinely moved.

"Really? That's an incredibly considerate gesture on your part."

Armesto shrugged modestly, though a satisfied smile danced on his lips.

"It's nothing. It's a perfect occasion to gather around the table and chat, even if just for a bit," he explained, rising from his stool. His bones audibly cracked, a reminder of the intense previous fight.

The hours flew by amidst preparations and lively conversations. When the time for the banquet arrived, everyone gathered around a long, robust table, brought especially to accommodate the cooked body of the bhatmin. The aroma of spices and roasted meat filled the air, making everyone's mouth water.

Thamuz took his place on the left side of the table, his gaze sweeping over the impressive expanse of the feast before him. Armesto presided over the table from the center of the upper side, his upright posture denoting his status. The rest of the diners were distributed in various positions around the table, creating an atmosphere of intimacy despite the size of the group.

Tawnylon appeared alongside Aolani, holding a gigantic, sizzling silver platter on which they carried the cooked creature.

"Make room on the table, because this is going to take all the attention," said Tawnylon, placing the platter on the table.

A loud rumble was heard when the platter touched the table, noting its great weight. The smoke from the meat was dispersing throughout the place.

"I can't wait to tear off a piece and eat it," Thamuz said to himself.

Yakrare was bringing along with Aolani different dishes to accompany the meat, such as various vegetables, food similar to bread, and different refreshing liquids.

The table was ready, replete with delicious and hot food. Thamuz was about to grab a piece of the large meat that was in front of him, but he stopped upon seeing Armesto stand up, raising an ornate cup. Silence fell over the table as all eyes turned to him, expectant.

"Friends, family," he began, his voice resonating with authority and affection. "We gather today not only to enjoy this magnificent feast, but to celebrate. We celebrate Thamuz's victory, yes, but we also celebrate our union and reconciliation. It's been a long time since we gathered like this to share."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the gathered faces before settling on Thamuz. "May this banquet nourish us not only in body, but also in spirit. Because the days to come will require all our strength."

He raised his cup even higher. "To Thamuz! To us! And to the future he will forge with his strength!"

A chorus rose in response, cups clashing in the air, with the celebration officially beginning.

image [https://th.bing.com/th/id/OIG2.j9ch8BONDWs4CX5w6Jz7?pid=ImgGn]

A bhatmin specimen