Asmodey and his army surged into the kingdom of Blue Rose, their presence darkening the skies and bringing a wave of terror. King Borius, a formidable half-god, directed his soldiers with calm precision, ensuring the safety of his people. His lineage traced back to the god-king Baliven, gave him strength beyond mortal means. He stood firm as Asmodey approached, a malevolent grin on the god's face.

"Ah... well, isn't it the great-grandson of Baliven?" Asmodey mocked. "Surprised that idiot god had children with that ugly face.......Show me what you've got."

Borius's clamor, forged from blood ice and moonseed crystal, glimmered in the dim light as he charged at Asmodey. His attack was intercepted by Abigale, who stepped in with a cold, calculating smile.

"Oh no," Asmodey sneered. "You're not going to fight me. You're a weak half-breed. I don't like the taste of the weak."

Anger flared in Borius's eyes. He unleashed the Moonlit Fury, channeling gathered moonlight into his clamor, which released a wave of cold fury. "FERAL BITE!" he roared, summoning a spectral wolf from the clamor. The wolf charged at Abigale, jaws snapping.

Abigale countered, slamming the wolf into the ground with a powerful spell. He looked at Borius, disdain evident. "Weak," he muttered, unsealing the forbidden magic from his gauntlet Voishackle. The void, a corrupted side of the loom, infused his fist. Abigale punched Borius in the stomach with devastating force, shattering the ground and sending shockwaves through the air. Borius spat blood, reeling from the impact.

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"How does a mortal like you access the loom?" Borius gasped, his strength waning.

Abigale smiled coldly. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He delivered a brutal kick to Borius's face, rendering him unconscious.

********

Nathen arrived at the ruins of the Crimson Shield Kingdom, his heart heavy with dread. The devastation was immense, with countless bodies strewn across the landscape. He found Sahaqiel, Gobo, Kahari, and Scion among the ruins. Anger and sorrow churned within him as he looked around.

Sahaqiel was examining a crystal, a frown on his face. Gobo handed it to Nathen. "One of the dead ink men was holding it. Sahaqiel says there's something inside, like a soul trapped and crying for help."

As Nathen took the crystal, a shockwave of energy transported his mind into a dark void. Confused, he called out, "Hello... anyone here?"

Whispered cries for help guided him through the darkness. He found a boy, alone and crying, who looked exactly like him. "Somebody... please... help me... somebody," the boy sobbed.

Nathen touched the boy's shoulder, and the boy turned around. Nathen's eyes widened in shock. "Who are you?"

"Irmin," the boy replied, tears streaming down his face. "I... I am your clone."

Nathen's disbelief turned to sarcasm. "How the heck is there a clone of me? When did all this happen?"

Irmin began to narrate his story: the death of Dr. Carel, his capture by Abigale, and the tortures he endured. Nathen shared his own tale of loss and discovery. Despite their different lives, they found common ground in their shared pain and determination. One was a blessing, the other an experiment; one was loved, the other tortured.

Suddenly, a blinding light filled the void, and Egeria, the god of death and one of the shades, appeared before them. "Irmin's death hasn't arrived yet," Egeria intoned. "He still has time. You can take him as your own brother, and I shall provide him a vessel."

Outside, Gobo, Sahaqiel, Kahari, and Scion anxiously watched Nathen. The crystal glowed and shattered, releasing Irmin's soul. The soul formed a new vessel, no longer identical to Nathen but distinct. Nathen awoke, smiling as he introduced Irmin Albrich to the others.

"Meet my brother," Nathen said, pride in his voice.

The others stared in shock. Gobo, ever the joker, muttered, "This family tree is getting complicated."