Ehrek emerged from the wormhole, landing in a vast, barren expanse. The wind howled, carrying with it the scent of dust and ash. The sky was a dull grey, clouds swirling ominously overhead as though they, too, could sense the immense power now held in the Heart of Oblivion. Ehrek took a moment to steady himself, the crystal pulsing with an almost painful intensity in his hand. The energy it radiated was unlike anything he had ever felt before—raw, ancient, and full of chaotic promise.

The Heart was both a weapon and a curse, its power potentially capable of reshaping reality itself. But Ehrek knew the true test was only just beginning. The ancient beings who had created the Heart would stop at nothing to reclaim it, to use it for their own apocalyptic purposes. And there were others who would come for it too—those who desired dominion over the world, over time, and over the very essence of existence.

As Ehrek walked across the desolate land, the weight of the Heart’s power grew heavier with each step. The visions it had shown him—the countless battles, the histories of war and destruction, the endless cycles of bloodshed—still echoed in his mind. He had seen the faces of those who had wielded the Heart before, those who had sought to control it, and those who had fallen to its destructive influence. He would not be one of them.

Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath him. The wind kicked up, and from the shadows of the distant mountains, figures began to emerge. Cloaked in dark robes, their eyes glowed with an eerie, otherworldly light. They moved with unnatural speed, each step leaving a trail of shadows behind them.

Ehrek gripped the Heart tightly, preparing for the inevitable confrontation. He had expected this—had known the Heart’s awakening would draw these beings, the keepers of the Heart’s secrets. They had been waiting for this moment, lying in wait, ready to reclaim what had been lost to them.

One of the figures, taller than the rest, stepped forward. Its face was obscured by a mask of shifting black energy, but its voice cut through the air like a blade.

"You dare to defy us?" the figure intoned, its voice reverberating in the air, a deep, unnatural echo. "The Heart is not yours to command, mortal. You are but a pawn in a much larger game."

Ehrek’s grip tightened on the Heart, and he stepped forward, his voice unwavering. "Honestly, your blabbering is getting annoying."

The figure laughed, a sound like grinding metal. “Fool. The Heart is eternal. It cannot be destroyed. And you, like all those before you, will fall to its power."

With a wave of the figure’s hand, the air around Ehrek grew heavy, thick with an unnatural energy. The ground beneath his feet cracked, and from the fissures emerged dark tendrils that writhed and twisted, reaching for him like the fingers of the dead. The tendrils lashed out, striking with the force of a thousand blows, but Ehrek was ready.

He raised his hand, channeling the power of the Heart through his armor. The energy pulsed in his veins, and with a flash of blinding light, he sent a shockwave of cosmic force crashing outward. The tendrils recoiled, disintegrating in the surge of energy. The ground shook as the figure staggered back, momentarily thrown off balance. “I can’t believe Blasphemey would be so far from home and yet there are still way to many conduits that seem to show up here. I assume this is where they banished you, old friend.”

"You are more powerful than we anticipated," the figure snarled, its form shifting, growing larger as it drew upon the Heart’s own dark power. "But even you cannot withstand the full force of its will."

Ehrek’s colors shift behind his helmet. "Shut it."

In a blur of motion, he leapt forward, his sword crackling with Fortitude. The air around him shimmered as he struck, his blade slicing through the figure’s form with a resounding clang. The sword cut through shadow and energy alike, but the figure’s essence twisted and reformed, healing almost instantly.

"Is that all?" the figure mocked, its form reforming with disturbing ease.

Ehrek clenched his fist, the Heart’s power surging in response. His eyes flared with intensity, and for the first time, he felt the Heart truly synchronize with him—its energy flowing as one with his own. He could feel the weight of countless universes pressing down on him, their fates intertwined with his own.

He thrust his sword into the air, summoning the full might of the Heart. Cosmic energy exploded outward, a shockwave that reverberated across the land. The figure screamed in agony, its body unraveling as the very fabric of its existence was torn apart by the force of Ehrek’s power. The ground cracked, the air shimmered, and then… silence.

Ehrek stood alone, the dust settling around him. The other figures, those who had followed the first, hesitated, their forms flickering with uncertainty. They had seen the true power of the Heart, and it had not been what they had expected. Some of them, those who had sought dominion, retreated, vanishing into the shadows. Others remained, watching him with wariness and respect.

Ehrek’s gaze shifted to the Heart, still pulsing in his hand. The burden was heavier now, but so too was his resolve.

"The fact I know where you are in this timeline means I can find you in the original. I will put this version of you to good use so that you do not suffer anymore." Ehrek said to no one in particular, his voice filled with the weight of his new reality.

As the wind howled once more, Ehrek turned away from the battlefield. The path ahead was unclear, but he knew one thing for certain: his journey was far from over. And the Heart, now bound to him, would either be his greatest weapon or his undoing.

Ehrek continued his journey through the barren landscape, the oppressive weight of the Heart’s power began to take its toll. It was a constant presence, gnawing at his mind, whispering of things beyond the normal mortal realm as if trying to communicate with Ehrek. Every step he took seemed to draw him deeper into the unknown, farther from the world he once knew. And yet, with each passing moment, he felt more certain of his path.

After several days of travel, the landscape began to change. The flat expanse of desolate earth gave way to jagged mountains, their peaks lost in the clouds above. The air grew colder, and the wind howled with a mournful cry. Ehrek felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere, as though the very land was aware of his presence. He could sense something—an ancient, hidden power stirring in the depths of the mountains.

He reached the base of the mountain range by nightfall. The moon, a pale sliver in the sky, cast an eerie glow over the land. As Ehrek gazed upward at the towering peaks, he noticed a faint glow emanating from the heart of the mountains. It was subtle at first, like the distant flicker of a dying flame, but as he focused, it grew stronger. He could feel it—something ancient, something powerful, another Leviathan Class.

“The phoenix... it is near.”

Ehrek began to climb the jagged path toward the glowing heart of the mountains. The air grew colder as he ascended, misting in the frigid night air. The wind grew sharper, carrying with it the scent of something ancient and forgotten. The higher he climbed, the more he could feel the weight of the land pressing down on him, as if the mountains themselves were alive, watching his every move.

Hours passed before Ehrek reached the summit, the glow now unmistakable—a pulsing light coming from a massive, obsidian temple built into the mountainside. The structure was ancient, its stonework covered in strange symbols that seemed to shift when viewed from different angles. The temple’s entrance was guarded by two massive statues, their eyes hollow and empty. He could feel the presence of something powerful within, a force that had been dormant for centuries.

The Heart pulsed again, its light flickering in response to Ehrek telling him to continue. Ehrek stepped forward, feeling the ground tremble beneath his feet as he approached the entrance. The air around him grew heavy, thick with the weight of magic and ancient power.

As he crossed the threshold of the temple, a voice boomed from the darkness within, its tone deep and resonant.

“You dare enter my domain?”

Ehrek's grip tightened on his sword, but he did not draw it. He knew better than to show fear. His voice echoed back, filled with the confidence and resolve he had earned.

“Hand over the creature.”

The voice chuckled, an unsettling sound that reverberated through the walls of the temple.

“The phoenix? You seek what is mine?”

From the shadows, a figure emerged, its form bathed in the dim glow of the temple’s eerie light. It was a being made of pure energy, its body shifting and crackling with raw, elemental power. It stood before Ehrek, taller than any mortal, its eyes glowing with an unsettling light.

“I am the Keeper of the Second Item,” the figure intoned, its voice carrying both authority and ancient menace. “To take what is mine, you must prove your worth.”

Ehrek stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t need to prove anything. Get out of the way or I will kill you as well.”

The Keeper’s laughter rang out, echoing through the temple.

“You must be quite arrogant. Having that rock means nothing. Prove your worth, or you will never leave this place.”

The ground beneath Ehrek’s feet trembled again, and before he could react, the temple around him seemed to shift. The walls dissolved into nothingness, leaving only an arena of pure energy. A massive platform rose from the floor, and on it stood a figure—a shadowy, ethereal version of Ehrek himself. The being was clad in dark, shifting armor, and its eyes glowed with the same light as the Keeper’s.

“This is the trial,” the Keeper’s voice rumbled. “Defeat your own shadow, and the second item will be yours. Fail, and you will be consumed by the darkness.”

He could feel the immense power radiating from the creature—it was a reflection of his own strength, but twisted and corrupted. A shadow of his soul, forged from his darkest desires and fears.

The trial had begun.

Ehrek’s breath quickened, his heart steadying as he steeled himself. He had fought many battles, slain countless enemies, and overcome immeasurable odds. But this—this was different. This was not a fight against a foe of flesh and bone, but a fight against his very soul.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

The shadow spoke, its voice a distorted echo of his own.

“You think you’re in control? You think you can honestly stop the other conduits, Ehrek? You are a fool. You will never escape what you truly are—weak, broken, destined to be consumed by the darkness.”

Ehrek clenched his fist, the cosmic energy surging through him as his armor began to change, and his sword flared with an intense, radiant light. The time for words was over. He charged forward, his blade slashing through the air with precision and power. The shadow responded in kind, its movements mirroring Ehrek’s exactly, but there was an unnatural fluidity to its strikes—each one more ruthless, more unforgiving.

Their blades collided in a deafening crash, sparks of energy flying from the impact. Ehrek staggered back, feeling the weight of the strike more than he had anticipated. His own shadow-self had an uncanny strength, one that seemed to tap into every fear and regret that Ehrek had buried deep within himself. The shadow was not just a foe—it was a manifestation of his own insecurities, his failures, his doubts.

“You can’t escape it,” the shadow taunted, its voice mocking. “You’re nothing but a puppet, Ehrek. A puppet to the Conduits, to their own ambitions. All you’ve done, all you’ve sacrificed... it’s all been for nothing.”

Ehrek swung his blade again, this time pushing through the shadow’s defense. The shadow staggered, but quickly recovered, launching a counterattack that struck with brutal force. Ehrek barely managed to raise his sword in time to block, the impact reverberating through his entire being.

“You were never meant to escape from them,” the shadow hissed, its form shifting and coiling around Ehrek’s every movement. “You should have never left them. just like the rest.”

He could feel the shadow’s influence—its poisonous whispers sinking into his mind, dredging up his deepest fears. And yet his stoic demeanour didn’t change. Every mistake he had made, every life he had taken, every betrayal he had committed—all of it flashed before him in an overwhelming rush. The weight of the Heart, the power he had claimed, threatened to break him.

“No.” Ehrek grunted through clenched teeth, refusing to let the shadow’s words dominate him. He had come too far, sacrificed too much. He would not let this trial destroy him.

Ehrek gathered every ounce of his strength, pouring it into his sword. The cosmic energy surrounding him flared brightly his armor complete, illuminating the arena in a purple and orange light. He charged once more, this time with every ounce of his being focused on the one goal—defeating his shadow.

The shadow met him head-on, but this time, Ehrek was ready. He slashed through the darkness with unmatched fury, the light of his blade clashing against the shadow’s form. The battle was not just physical; it was a war of wills, a contest of conviction. And Ehrek’s will was unyielding.

With a final, resounding strike, Ehrek cleaved through the shadow’s form. The darkness shattered like glass, breaking into a thousand fragments of pure energy, each one dissolving into the air. For a moment, Ehrek stood there, panting heavily, the remnants of the battle fading into silence.

The Keeper’s voice rumbled through the arena, filled with both approval and a touch of melancholy.

“You have defeated your shadow, Ehrek. The Phoenix is yours.”

The air around Ehrek shimmered as the temple walls reappeared, and before him, floating in midair, was a Fiery Pheonix. It burned brightly as much as the feathers on it looked delicate and yet itself was incredibly powerful.

Ehrek reached out and grasped the Bird, its weight immediately settling into his hand. He felt the surge of power as its essence merged with his own, the Heart of Oblivion humming in response. The two things seemed to resonate together, as though they were two halves of a greater whole. The Pheonix held the blood, while the Heart was the incarnation of Blasphemy itself.

The Keeper, now a mere echo, spoke once more.

“Beware, Ehrek. The Heart and the Pheonix are bound together. To wield them is to walk a dangerous path, for they are the keepers of both life and death. What you do with them will determine the fate of not only this world but the very fabric of existence itself.”

With the Phoenix in his possession and the Heart of Oblivion still pulsing with immense power, Ehrek turned and exited the temple, stepping into the unknown once more. The next chapter of his journey awaited, and the burdens of the Heart and the Pheonixt were now his to bear. But Ehrek was no longer just a warrior—he was a force unto himself, destined to shape the very fabric of reality.

After securing the Blood of the Pheonix, Ehrek set his sights on the ultimate challenge: to claim the Essence of a Dying Star not through a relic, but by confronting the star itself. His ambition demanded that he leave the boundaries of the earth, entering the void of space, where even his mighty armor would face its limits.

Standing atop a jagged cliff under a twilight sky, Ehrek raised his hand, summoning a wormhole that shimmered with unstable energy. He glanced back at the scorched earth and crumbled mountains from his earlier conquests. This would be the first time he would return to space after this entire journey even if it was in another timeline.

He stepped through the wormhole and Ehrek emerged in the silent expanse of space, surrounded by the cold light of distant stars and the gaping void between them. The cosmos stretched infinitely, a sight both awe-inspiring and humbling. His armor also slowly freezing over time.

In the distance, he saw his target: a massive, dying star, its once-brilliant light now flickering like a wounded beast. Its surface churned with unstable plasma, and its gravity twisted the fabric of space around it. This star was nearing its end, soon to collapse into a supernova—or worse, a black hole.

Ehrek, walking toward the star like a comet, leaving trails of cosmic energy in his wake.

As Ehrek approached, the heat and radiation intensified. His armor, forged from cosmic alloys, absorbed the energy and reinforced his protective field, but even it began to strain. The star’s gravitational pull threatened to drag him into its fiery depths.

He came to a halt at a safe distance, hovering above the tumultuous surface. Raising his hand, which pulsed in resonance with the dying star.

“You’ve burned bright for eons,” Ehrek murmured, his voice carried by the energy of his armor. “But now, your time is up my son.”

The star seemed to react, its surface flaring violently as if resisting his claim. Tendrils of plasma shot out toward Ehrek, each one carrying the force of a thousand storms. Ehrek raised his hand, the armor gleaming with a cosmic light, and deflected the fiery tendrils. The shockwaves slamming into his armor as it is absorbed instantly by the glowing of the armor just in time.

As he descended, the heat grew unbearable, and the pressure threatened to crush the armor around him. His armor glowed red-hot, absorbing as much energy as it could, but cracks began to form in the surface of the barrier.

The Heart of Oblivion glowed brighter, stabilizing his armor and creating a protective barrier around him. At the core of the star, he saw it—a swirling, pulsating sphere of pure energy: the Essence of the Star, the very heart of its life force.

Ehrek reached out, but as his hand neared the Essence, a powerful force pushed him back. From within the star’s core, a guardian emerged—a colossal being of pure plasma, its form shifting and flickering like the star itself. Its voice was a thunderous roar, echoing within Ehrek’s mind.

“You dare disturb my slumber? This star is mine to guard until its final breath. Leave, mortal, or be consumed!”

Ehrek gripped his sword tightly, the cosmic energy around him flaring as he prepared for battle.

“Do you honestly dare to defy the embodiment of the cosmos?” Ehrek replied, his voice steady despite the overwhelming odds.

The guardian attacked, unleashing waves of searing plasma. Ehrek countered with precise strikes of his blade, cutting through the energy waves and closing the distance. The battle was intense, each blow shaking the core of the star. Ehrek’s barrier around the armor began to fracture further, but his resolve only grew stronger.

Summoning the full power of the Heart of Oblivion, he unleashed a devastating attack, striking at the guardian’s core. The being let out a final roar before dissipating into streams of energy, leaving the Essence unguarded.

Ehrek scoffs and he grasps the Essence of the Star. Its energy surged through him, threatening to tear the armor apart. The Conduit of Blasphemy and the Pheonix worked in unison, stabilizing the volatile power.

The star around him began to collapse, its energy spent. Ehrek activated a wormhole just as the star erupted into a brilliant supernova. He emerged back on Earth, his armor scorched and burned, but his hand clutching the pulsing of what’s left of the fission from the star as he holds it with gravity surrounding it and keeping it from exploding.

Ehrek stood in a desolate field, the light of the stars above seeming dim in comparison to the Essence he now grasped in his hand. The journey had left its mark—his armor was damaged, his body exhausted.

The damaged done to the armor began to to mend slightly as the inside and outside was hit by the cold. Due to the materials the armor was now enhanced with the armor seemed to grow stronger in the cold as Ehrek opened a wormhole back to the shop.

Ehrek approached the entrance, his silhouette framed by the dying sun. The weaponsmith, a towering figure clad in soot-streaked leather and wielding a massive hammer, stood waiting at the forge. His piercing eyes glimmered with curiosity and faint recognition.

“You’ve returned,” the weaponsmith said, his voice a deep rumble that matched the forge’s roar. “And not empty-handed, I see.”

Ehrek stepped forward, placing the Heart of Oblivion and the glowing shard on the weaponsmith’s anvil. "To gather all of these items so quickly…"

The weaponsmith regarded the items with a mix of awe and caution. His hand hovered over the Heart of Oblivion, sensing its dangerous energy. “This is no simple task,” he said. “The power within these objects is ancient and wild. To bind them into a weapon worthy of your purpose will test even my skills.”

“You’ve forged weapons for gods and kings,” Ehrek replied, his tone sharp. “Do it.”

The weaponsmith’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Very well. But understand, Ehrek, the weapon I forge will not just be an extension of your strength. It will demand something of you in return.”

“I’ve sacrificed everything,” Ehrek growled. “What’s one more thing?”

The weaponsmith chuckled. “We’ll see.”

The weaponsmith began his work with practiced precision. He secured the Heart of Oblivion in a clamp, its dark energy flaring violently as he struck it with his hammer. Sparks of black and crimson light filled the forge, dancing like malevolent spirits. The shard from the Abyss floated nearby, radiating cosmic power that warped the very air around it.

The weaponsmith chanted in an ancient tongue, his words resonating with the anvil and the forge’s flames. Slowly, the two artifacts began to merge, their energies clashing violently. The forge groaned under the strain, its fires turning a deep, unnatural blue. Each strike of the weaponsmith’s hammer sent ripples through the fabric of reality, as though the weapon’s creation was being felt across dimensions.

Ehrek stood nearby, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He could feel the pull of the Heart, its chaotic energy reaching for him even as it was subdued. The forging process seemed to take hours, but Ehrek’s patience never wavered.

The Smith called Ehrek over as Ehrek put the star onto the blade and the smith managed to send shockwaves through the blade using the star. And the Phoenix

At last, the weaponsmith stepped back, his chest heaving. On the anvil lay a weapon unlike any Ehrek had ever seen. It was a massive greatsword, its blade shimmering with a dark, liquid-like surface that seemed to contain galaxies within it. The hilt was forged from the shard of the Abyss, glowing faintly with cosmic energy, and the pommel held a fragment of the Heart of Oblivion, pulsing steadily.

The weaponsmith wiped the sweat from his brow and gestured toward the huge blade. “It’s done. The Endbringer. A weapon to kill even those that are gods.”

Ehrek approached the weapon, his gauntlet-clad hand hovering over it. The air around the blade felt heavy, as though it carried the weight of entire worlds. He grasped the hilt, and a surge of energy coursed through him. Memories, visions, and echoes of countless battles flooded his mind, but he held firm.

The weaponsmith watched him closely. “The Endbringer is not just a weapon, Ehrek. It is a choice. Wield it wisely, for its power is absolute.”

Ehrek lifted the blade, testing its weight. Despite its incredible size, it felt perfectly balanced, as though it had been made specifically for him. He put the blade pointing it into the ground as it towered even over him. He turned to the weaponsmith. “If it’s absolute, then it will do exactly what I need.”

The weaponsmith nodded solemnly. “Go, then. But remember—every end has its price.”

Ehrek sheathed the Endbringer across his back, the blade humming softly as if eager for its purpose. Without another word, he turned and stepped out of the forge, the path ahead clear but fraught with danger.

Ehrek turns around to the front door of the shop as he opens a wormhole and walks through leaving yet another timeline with his Greatsword in hand.