The pain coursed through me like a river of molten steel, burning and consuming.

My mind, a storm of chaos, could no longer find clarity amidst the echoes of memories that weren’t entirely mine.

Who am I? The question churned in my soul like an anchor dragging me into an abyss.

Was I Cyrus, the once-human summoned to this world?

Or was I the last surviving Matrivan, a vessel of rage and destruction?

The truth felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

But amidst the chaos, one thing stood out, clear as the sun piercing through storm clouds—hatred.

A hatred so ancient, so primal, that it felt as though it wasn’t just mine, but the collective wrath of my entire lost race.

And alongside it, an insatiable desire for destruction.

I wanted to resist it, to rise above it, but it was as if the emotions had become a part of me, woven into the fabric of my very being.

No matter how much I wished to cast it aside, it clung to me, a shadow I could never escape.

"So," Selven’s voice broke through my turmoil, pulling me back to reality, "what do you think?"

I looked up at him, standing before me with that calm, unreadable expression.

He wasn’t gloating, nor did he pity me.

He was simply waiting, as though he had known this moment would come.

"Tell me," I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me, "what’s your idea?"

A faint smirk crossed his face, as though he had expected nothing less.

"Hmm… good. Let me explain then," he began, his tone measured and deliberate.

"Every worldline," he said, pacing slowly, "possesses a key element—a planet known as the anchor planet. It’s the foundation of the worldline's balance. If this planet is destroyed or significantly weakened, the entire worldline will collapse into chaos. Its destruction would hasten the worldline toward oblivion."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

"This very planet," he gestured broadly, "is the anchor planet of this worldline. And instead of fighting Jökull head-on, you should focus on causing as much destruction as possible. Break the planet, weaken it, and let the rest of the worldline crumble under its own weight."

His words sent a chill down my spine.

The sheer audacity of the plan was terrifying, yet strangely… it resonated with me.

"But," Selven continued, his tone sharpening, "to achieve this, you’ll need more power. Your golems, as they are now, won’t suffice. You’ll need to create stronger, more devastating forces—especially a Lava Golem."

At the mention of a Lava Golem, something inside me stirred.

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The very idea of summoning and crafting such raw, destructive power ignited a spark of excitement in me.

The image of molten giants tearing through mountains and reducing cities to ash filled my mind.

My eyes lit up, the dull haze of despair momentarily replaced with focus and determination.

"Yes," Selven said, nodding in approval at my reaction. "I have a way. Time is short, so let’s begin."

I gave a single nod.

Words felt unnecessary.

And just like that, the world shifted again. I was back in my dungeon.

The eerie silence of the town was gone.

There were no houses, no remnants of the village, and no statue where Selven had stood.

The only things that surrounded me were familiar—the towering trees, my throne, the golems standing in stoic silence, the chimeras prowling in the shadows, and Krothe, watching me with his ever-curious eyes.

This was my domain. My fortress. My starting point for destruction.

But as I surveyed the place, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of what lay ahead.

This wasn’t just about survival anymore.

It was about fulfilling a purpose, a destiny that I hadn’t chosen but couldn’t escape.

And deep down, I realized something.

Destruction wasn’t just my goal. It was my nature.

Time in the dungeon ticked by differently than in the outside world.

What felt like months to me would barely register as a few days beyond its walls.

I had three months—neither long nor short—but every moment felt like a flicker of a dying flame.

Failure wasn’t an option.

I needed to use every second to prepare for the inevitable.

The first priority was the creation of the Lava Golem.

Selven had emphasized the importance of crafting its core.

"The core," he had said, "is the heart of the golem. If it's flawed, the golem will collapse before it can even take its first step."

His voice was stern, but I could sense a trace of excitement in his tone.

The materials required were exotic, volatile, and impossibly rare.

But Krothe, in his usual enigmatic way, had them all in stock—though at an exorbitant price.

Salamander Core: The heart of a fire-elemental beast, pulsating with an intense, almost alive warmth.

This would be the primary heat source.

Molten Core Crystal: A jagged, crimson fragment formed at the heart of an ancient volcano.

It radiated raw, untamed power, enough to burn my hand even through protective gloves.

Infernal Emberstone: A glowing mineral infused with elemental fire.

Its heat was so potent that it left scorch marks on the dungeon's stone floor just by proximity.

Obsidian Heart Shard: A shard of volcanic glass, its smooth surface reflecting the faint light of the dungeon.

It felt cool in my hand, a strange contrast to its fiery siblings.

Sulfuric Essence Orb: A swirling, sulfuric orb that emanated a pungent, acrid scent.

It thrummed faintly with the promise of ignition.

Each material was dangerous to handle on its own, but the real challenge lay in merging them.

Selven had warned me: "The proportions must be exact. Even a single mistake could cause the core to explode."

With his guidance, I began the meticulous process.

I used my green energy as the binding agent, slowly feeding it into the materials to stabilize their volatile properties.

At first, the elements resisted, their energies clashing violently.

The Salamander Core flared with uncontrolled heat, the Sulfuric Essence threatened to erupt, and the Molten Core Crystal trembled under the strain.

Each failure was costly—dozens of attempts ended in small explosions that sent shards flying across the room, searing my skin and leaving me drained.

The air was thick with the smell of sulfur and burnt stone.

But I couldn’t give up.

Over days, I refined my technique. I focused on the flow of my energy, matching the rhythms of the volatile components.

Slowly, the chaos began to settle.

The Salamander Core’s heat merged with the stabilizing properties of the Obsidian Shard.

The Infernal Emberstone linked with the Sulfuric Essence, forming a continuous energy circuit.

And finally, the Molten Core Crystal enveloped it all, sealing the volatile mix into a single, cohesive core.

When it was done, the core glowed with a fiery brilliance, pulsating like a heartbeat.

I held it in my hands, sweat pouring down my face.

The heat radiated from it was almost unbearable, yet it felt like a piece of art—an achievement born from pain and perseverance.

The next step was the body of the Lava Golem.

Selven guided me in creating a form strong enough to withstand the extreme heat of the core.

Using basalt and obsidian converted from the sands within the dungeon, I sculpted a towering figure.

Its form was bulky yet refined, with grooves etched into its surface to allow molten energy to flow freely.

When the core was finally embedded into the chest of the golem, there was a moment of silence.

Then, with a deafening roar, it came to life.

Lava poured through its veins, glowing through the grooves like rivers of molten fire.

Its movements were slow but deliberate, each step shaking the ground beneath it.

For a moment, I stood there, gazing at the creature.

It wasn’t just a golem—it was a force of nature, a testament to the power I now wielded.

But there was no time to bask in my success.

The next task was to improve my existing golems and chimeras.

Selven’s vast knowledge proved invaluable.

He taught me how to enhance their cores with elemental affinities, imbuing them with fire, earth, or even lightning.

My golems became faster, stronger, and more adaptable.

The chimeras were augmented with tougher scales and sharper claws, turning them into apex predators.

Meanwhile, the dungeon itself underwent a transformation.

I transformed the forest into maze, carved traps into various areas and paths, and infused the environment with elemental hazards.

Lava flows were redirected to create deadly pools, and hidden mechanisms ensured that intruders would face endless waves of resistance.

As the days turned into weeks, my domain became a fortress of destruction—a place where even the mightiest of hunters would hesitate to tread.

By the time the third month arrived, I stood at the heart of my dungeon, surrounded by an army of golems, chimeras, and my newest creation, the Lava Golem.

The air was thick with heat and energy, and for the first time, I felt ready.

The final battle was approaching.

And this time, I would not simply survive—I would conquer.