Gods, that's what they were called. In reality, they were so much more than just Gods. They were existence itself, not embodiment, not incarnations, no, they were existence.
Their story begins in the vast void, a single consciousness was born. This consciousness was all alone, it was without purpose, without drive, without will, but slowly it gained it's own ego.
This ego longed for another of it's kind, so it created a body to inhabit. This body was an amalgamation of eyes, mouths, tentacles, and tendrils. To others, it would be the most horrendous thing to lay eyes upon. However, for the 'Will' it was the most beautiful thing.
Within the body, the 'Will' went searching, for something, someone, anything, so that it wouldn't be alone anymore. It searched for centuries, and centuries turned into millenniums, millenniums turned into eons.
The 'will' was about to give up, but eventually, 'He' had found another. Creation was who 'She' was, and with her, they went on to find others of their kind. Space, Time, Destruction, Creation, Life, Death, and the original 'Will' that started the search, Power.
They spent eons together, until one day, Creation showed the others what she had made. The others, amazed at such a thing, wanted to create their own, and so, they did, sparking the Age of Creation. However, there was one, who didn't like it, no, it would be more apt to say, he saw it as, 'lesser'.
Lesser than everything they were, where they were strong, the creations were weak. Where they were eternal and everlasting, their creations were finite and short. The others, Gods, that's what they called themselves, saw beauty where he saw repulsion for everything they were.
'He' was patient, tolerating of their existence, for the sake of the others. However, one day Creation disappeared, and nobody knew where she went, three decades after her disappearance 'She' had done something unforgivable in 'His' eyes, and 'He' could no longer tolerate them.
They took 'His' patience, 'His' toleration, 'His' mercy, and trampled all over it. So, he destroyed the very creations they deemed as worthy. He trampled over the very things they placed above themselves.
For 'He' would show them, just how worthless, how repulsive, how disgusting their creations truly were. However, even 'He' couldn't fight all of his siblings alone, he needed an army, one that was truly worthy. He created them in his image, what he deemed the most beautiful form.
The Gora'th, he named them, they were strong, beautiful, truly worthy, and they hated those deemed by their creator, as 'lesser'. The Age of Destruction had begun. World after world, people after people, destroyed, incinerated, obliterated, and crushed until nothing remained.
The Gods, created their own army to combat those of their brother, the Yalor, a race that was as strong as it was beautiful. The Yalor clashed with the Gora'th, seemingly evenly matched, but that would soon take a turn.
'He' had found it, the place where 'She' had trampled all over his mercy. He took all three of them, and turned them into his heralds, each one bestowed with a portion of his power, enough power to turn the tides of the war in his favor.
'She' had found the world where her treasure lay, turned into nothing but rumble, 'He' left a trace to have her see what he had done. Creation was devastated, ruined some would say, and from that day forward, the spark of hope she had left for her brother, had dwindled to nothing with hatred and rage taking its place.
She would kill him, she would destroy him, and take everything he had. This was the starting point of the war that forced 'Him' to re-enter the battlefield.
His rampage lasted a millennium, and by the end of it, only one world remained, the final stand, the final world, the last in a sea of death.
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The Yalor lay in wait for the Gora'th's final invasion, for their guard could not be penetrated by any means even if it meant they all die. However, the Yalor were not the only guards, the Gods themselves were as well sharpening themselves, none more so than Creation herself.
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That was when a hole in the void had opened, and the Gora'th came pouring through and there didn't seem to be an end to them, and as the battle raged, 'He' had stepped onto the battlefield along with his heralds.
With the wave of a tendril, countless Yalor were killed as simple as breathing. His countless eyes gazed toward the Gods and the world below, and his heralds rushed forward each fighting two Gods, for that is the power, that Power itself wielded.
Creation and Destruction shot toward Power before his heralds had even begun fighting, and clashed with his countless limbs. Destruction raised with sword in hand darted toward Power at his left and plunged his sword into Power and pulled down. Creation wielded her rapier and thrust forward, obliterating tendril after tendril and tentacle after tentacle.
Power slung tentacle and tendril after tendril at them, dealing great wounds but they were doing just the same. The battle wasn't in his favor, so he called back his heralds to fight Creation.
His countless mouths opened as he continued his tentacled assault, and his voice defeaned the battlefield, "Heralds! Take off your helmets." His voice leading into a pause as they took off their helmets, Creation's eyes widened with shock and Power's countless mouths turned into ominous grins, "Will you be able to kill them, I wonder?"
Her face contorted and twisted, before finally settling on anger as she screamed, "You bastard! I'll kill you!" With the same grin as before Power asked, "Oh please, we both know that's not possible." He sounded a bit amused.
However, his statement was true, there was nothing that could truly kill the Gods. However, there were other ways of dealing with them, and that was exactly what Power had planned. The amused tone and the grins vanished, replaced with indifference and disgust.
"Heralds, Kill them." As soon as they heard his order in an instant they appeared before Creation and Destruction, he needed a distraction for what he was about to do.
"Gora'th, to me!" At his word his entire army began rushing toward him, forming a wall. In one tentacle an orb began forming, it grew and grew and grew. He was gathering energy, and the other Gods realized this, they began cutting down Gora'th after Gora'th. No matter what they couldn't let whatever that was happen.
The Gora'th's numbers were thinning and he was still gathering energy, he realized the gravity of the situation, and in a split second, he took back the power given to his heralds.
The Heralds began to cough up blood and toppled over. The Herald fighting Creation puked up blood, and his eyes which were previously clouded, regained a certain spark. He looked up to see the face of Creation, or as he knew her, Veris, his beloved wife.
"I'm...sorry..." He said as he fell right into her arms, she looked down as tears began to fill her eyes, "Feroth, listen to me, I can fix this! I can fix it, everything will be alright!" The man, now named Feroth looked at her with his dying eyes and said, "We both...know that...isn't possible."
"Promise me...something, please." His voice laced with desperation, his wife whose eyes were filled with tears responded, "Yes! Anything I'll do anything!"
His eyes were slowly losing their spark and these last words were the last thing he would ever say, "Please...don't let him win..." His eyes closed and he, Feroth, husband of the second strongest God in existence, had died.
"I promise, Hey! Hey! Feroth, wake up...wake up...please." Her face was full of grief as she cried out, but her grief didn't last long she looked toward the source of her grief, Power. Hatred and Rage filled her into being as she rushed toward Power, and the wall surrounding him.
With every swing of her rapier, she cut down all Gora'th who stood in her way. She slowly but surely made her way toward Power, followed by the other Gods, and the individual in question, widened his eyes in shock.
'She shouldn't be this strong!' He thought as Creation made her way towards him. She wasted no time in attacking him, and the other Gods didn't either. Faced with the onslaught of six Gods on his own, Power was being repelled.
However, he continued gathering energy into his tentacle and guarded it from any possible attacks, but the situation was getting worse, as he was being more and more pushed back.
"This shouldn't be possible! I will not be beaten by someone like you!" Power yelled out in desperation and the Gods continued their onslaught, and Creation lunged forward, rapier in hand, to the tentacle gathering energy, and cut it off.
"NO!" Power screamed in anger and desperation, and something he had never felt before, fear. Creation, having the tentacle in hand, began to transfer the energy into her hand. Seeing this opportunity, the other Gods rushed to hold him down.
Creation, no, Veris, looked at Power with a face full of anger and said, "DIE, YOU BASTARD!"
Power's eyes widened but he couldn't dodge, it made contact with him and he began to yell out, "I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL KILL YOU! I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG IT'LL TAKE BUT I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU, ALL OF YOU!" His body was disintegrating and rapidly at that, and as his last eyes and mouth were about to be consumed he screamed out, "GORA'TH RETREAT, CONTINUE THIS WAR!"
The Gora'th obeyed the order and fled back toward the opening from where they came, but the Yalor still continued their onslaught. As the last Gora'th retreated through the opening, it closed. Power was gone, the strongest and oldest God in existence, the destroyer of countless worlds, was finally dead, at least for a time.
Creation, however, didn't look any better than before but with a saddened smile, she looked toward the other Gods, and raised her Rapier high, "This War is Over!"
However, was it truly?