Alex’s draconic form towered over the battlefield like a force of nature incarnate, his obsidian scales glistening in the twilight, streaked with glowing crimson veins that pulsed with otherworldly power. His eyes, burned as they locked onto the Elder Brain floating ominously behind the legions of Absolute forces.
But what truly caught Alex’s attention, was the metallic crown fused into the brain’s matter—a massive, intricate structure made of silvery metal that seemed almost too perfect to be of mortal make , the Crown of Karsus. A relic, thought lost for ages, now embedded into the brain itself like a malignant tumor.
The Crown’s silvery sheen caught the fading light of the day, casting eerie reflections as the brain pulsed with psionic energy. Every time the Elder Brain twitched, the Crown seemed to hum with a faint, almost imperceptible song.
Even from this distance, he could feel it—its alien mind already probing, searching for any chink in the mental fortress he had painstakingly built.
A low, rumbling growl escaped his throat, vibrating the air as the flames danced in a maelstrom around his massive form. But the Elder Brain was quick to defend. A shimmering psionic barrier encased the creature, pushing back the inferno Alex unleashed as if the flames were mere embers on the wind.
'So, the brain thinks it can resist', Alex thought, his mind sharpened to an edge far deadlier than his claws. 'But let’s see how long you last against true power.'
In the blink of an eye, Alex’s massive dragon body coiled and launched forward with blinding speed, ripping through the earth as if it were paper. The ground split in his wake, forming a trench of jagged rock and debris. His claws gouged into the dirt as his momentum carried him closer to his target, but the Elder Brain was already shifting reality around him. Space itself bent, warping the battlefield in a haze of psionic energy. The world twisted, and suddenly Alex found himself behind the Elder Brain, farther from his mark than he had been before.
'Damn it.'
The Elder Brain was clever, using its mastery over space to toy with him, disorient him, even with his superior brain power. Alex snarled, his frustration mounting .The brain was no fool—it knew it couldn’t overpower him in raw strength, but it posseted abilities that could give it an advantage.
'Fine then, he thought, baring his teeth in a predatory grin. I can play that game, too.'
His eyes flared with an intense purple glow, and with a crackling hum of psionic power, dozens of shimmering tendrils shot from his body, snaking out toward the battlefield. They latched onto the minds of the surviving troops in the Absolute's army—ogres, goblins, drow—all who still stood in defiance. Alex siphoned their psionic energy, draining them of their mental strength in an instant. Their bodies collapsed like ragdolls, their minds shattered by his overwhelming force.
The surge of power flowed back into Alex, amplifying his abilities tenfold. His dragon form shimmered with renewed energy as he vanished from where he stood, reappearing in a blur of motion right next to the Elder Brain. His jaws snapped open, wide enough to bite through the floating monstrosity in one savage strike.
But the Elder Brain was ready.
A massive, invisible force clamped down on Alex’s mouth, halting his momentum just inches from the brain’s quivering, fleshy surface. The psionic grip was like a vice around his jaws, twisting his head aside as the Elder Brain pushed him off target. Alex roared in fury, thrashing against the telekinetic hold, his claws raking through the air as he missed his mark.
For a moment, the battlefield stilled, the tension between dragon and brain so thick it felt like the very air might shatter. The Elder Brain’s tendrils twitched and curled, its mind relentlessly probing for an advantage, while Alex struggled to wrench free from the psionic grip. They were locked in a battle of wills now, a clash of titanic intellects as much as physical power.
'Enough', Alex thought, his mind a blazing storm of fury and determination. He summoned every ounce of his psionic strength, focusing it into a singular, piercing assault aimed directly at the Elder Brain’s mind.
The Elder Brain quivered, its barrier flickering as it struggled to withstand the onslaught. For a brief moment, Alex felt his attack break through, felt the Elder Brain’s defenses crack under the pressure. He was close—so close—to finally sinking his fangs into the creature's quivering mass.
But then, just as quickly, the Elder Brain vanished.
There was no flash of light, no sound of retreat—only a sudden, gut-wrenching emptiness as the massive creature blinked out of existence. Alex’s jaws snapped shut on nothing but air, his momentum carrying him forward as he staggered into the space where the Elder Brain had been.
He roared in frustration, the sound echoing across the battlefield like thunder. His draconic eyes blazed with fury as he scanned the area, searching for any trace of the brain’s psionic signature, any lingering aura he could track. But there was nothing. The Elder Brain had escaped, leaving behind no trail, no sign of where it had fled.
Alex’s body crackled with lingering energy, the stolen psionic power from the fallen soldiers coursing through him. But it wasn’t enough. He could feel the absence of the Elder Brain like a phantom limb, its presence haunting the edges of his mind even as it vanished.
'It’s gone.'
For the first time in this battle, Alex felt a sting of defeat. He had been ready—ready to end this conflict once and for all, to crush the Absolute. But now, the Elder Brain had slipped through his claws, and there was no telling where it had gone or when it might strike again.
The flames around Alex flickered and slowly died down, leaving only the eerie silence of the battlefield. His massive, obsidian form, streaked with molten crimson veins, towered over the carnage below. The ground beneath him was scorched, fissured, and littered with the remains of the Absolute’s forces—goblins, ogres, and drow now nothing more than broken, smoldering bodies. But the victory felt hollow.
The Elder Brain had fled.
Alex straightened, his colossal draconic muscles rippling beneath blackened, sinewy scales as he surveyed the remnants of the army. The survivors, those few who hadn’t been utterly obliterated, scattered in every direction, their terror palpable. He could smell it on the wind. But fear alone was not enough. The real threat—the Elder Brain and the Crown of Karsus it wielded—had slipped away, like a shadow fading from the light.
Alex's crimson eyes, glowing with primal fury, narrowed as he gazed into the distance. 'This isn’t over'. Alex would find it again. And when he did, there would be no escape.
He unfurled his massive wings, each leathery span crackling with latent energy, igniting the very air around him. A deep growl reverberated from his throat, shaking the earth beneath him as he readied to move. With a powerful thrust, he launched into the sky, tearing through the darkened heavens. The ground trembled beneath the force of his ascent, gusts of wind roaring in his wake, flattening what little remained of the battlefield.
The wind howled as he soared over the ruined landscape, the burning remnants of the Absolute’s army shrinking below. His wings beat rhythmically, the sheer force propelling him faster, pushing him through the sky like a harbinger of wrath. In a fluid motion, he angled downward, plummeting toward the Chionthar River. The dark, swirling waters loomed below, but Alex didn’t hesitate. His massive form crashed into the river, creating a tidal wave that surged along the riverbanks. The depths welcomed him like an abyss, the cold water parting as he descended.
The river engulfed him, but even its chilling depths couldn't quell the heat of his fury. His wings folded in as he dove deeper, his mind already racing with plans, strategies—how to find the Elder Brain, how to rip it apart, piece by piece.
'One way or another', Alex thought, the determination burning hotter than ever as he delved further into the river’s depths, 'I will end this.'
The waters churned violently around him, as if even the river itself could sense the tempest of rage and divine power coiling within the draconic form. And as Alex plunged into the dark depths, his mind focused on the inevitable reckoning to come, the echoes of the past battles fading into the ominous silence of the river's abyss.
________________________________
In a tranquil corner of the celestial realms, far from the reach of mortal eyes, three divine figures stood together, their forms bathed in a soft, radiant light that seemed to shift between the hues of dawn and twilight. Suspended before them, a crystal globe shimmered, reflecting scenes from the mortal world. At this moment, it displayed the image of Alex, diving into the depths of the river below.
Lathander, the Morninglord, broke the silence first. His golden form, glowing like the first light of dawn, rippled with hues of pink, orange, and yellow, though his usually serene face was marred by a rare expression of concern. His voice, usually filled with boundless hope, held a note of disbelief as he watched Alex’s form vanish into the waters.
"I didn’t foresee this," Lathander murmured, his gaze fixed on the globe. "A mortal... absorbing so much divine energy—ours no less—and still standing. By all rights, it should have torn him apart." There was awe in his tone now, as if the feat was beyond the realm of possibility, even for a god to witness. He shook his head slightly, the warmth of his light flickering with something more serious than usual. "But not only does he survive... he transformed in to a dragon afterwards ? It's... remarkable. Unexpected, yes, but undeniably epic."
His golden eyes shifted toward Eilistraee, the white-haired goddess of the dance, her onyx form glimmering in the moon’s reflection. He softened his tone as he spoke, acknowledging her condition. "Eilistraee, you bore the greatest cost in all this. How do you fare? He drew more deeply from you than from either Selûne or myself."
Eilistraee, the Dark Maiden, stood nearby, her form elegant yet fragile. The usual radiance of her silver light was dimmed, her ethereal beauty slightly veiled in a shroud of exhaustion. Her hair, streaked with moonlight, cascaded over her shoulders as she placed a delicate hand on the globe. Her fingers trembled ever so slightly, a sign that even a goddess could feel strain.
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“I am… managing,” Eilistraee said softly, her voice like a whispered melody carried on the night breeze. Yet, despite her serene tone, there was a faint weakness to it—an exhaustion that was unfamiliar to her divine essence. “Alex was close to reaching godhood, closer than any mortal I have ever seen. The power he took from me was vast, yes, but willingly given. He needed it to fight . To overcome.”
Lathander’s eyes softened as he looked at her, concern etched across his luminous features. “You’ve been weakened,” he said, more an observation than a question. “He took more than you could safely offer, didn’t he?”
Eilistraee’s gaze drifted back to the globe, watching as Alex emerged from the river in his human form. No one would have guessed that he had been a dragon just moments ago.
“Perhaps. But it was the right choice,” she replied, though her voice was softer now, weary. “He is… special. I could feel it, even as the energy left me. Alex is not like any other mortal. His soul is fractured, yet it remains unyielding, like a crystal that has cracked but refuses to break.”
Selûne, the Moonmaiden, who had been silently watching, finally spoke. Her luminous form, wrapped in robes of pearlescent silver, seemed to shimmer with a quiet intensity. Her pale eyes, as vast as the moonlit sky, studied the scene below with a mixture of wonder and caution.
“I have seen mortals draw on divine energy before,” Selûne began, her voice calm, serene as the night sky. “But never like this. Never to this extent.” She shifted her gaze toward the other two deities. “It was not just strength he took, but a sliver of our very essence. That kind of power… it is dangerous. And not just for him.”
Lathander nodded gravely. “Indeed. If Alex continues to channel divine energy, he could ascend—whether he wants to or not. And if that happens...” He let his voice trail off, the unspoken fear hanging in the air. There were rules in place, divine laws that governed the balance between the mortal and immortal planes. Mortals becoming gods upset that balance. And Alex, with his fractured soul and volatile power, could be a threat to the order of the cosmos if he did not learn control.
Eilistraee, her silver eyes dim but resolute, turned to face Lathander. “We gave him this power knowing the risks. He used it to fight Myrkul, to stand against something that none of us could face in the material realm. We cannot take that back. What we must do now is watch. Guide him if we can.”
Lathander sighed, the light of dawn flickering in his eyes. “I worry for him. The strength he carries now is immense, but his soul… those fractures are dangerous. Divine power could tear him apart from within.”
Selûne nodded, her moonlit gaze focused on the mortal below. “That is true. And yet... he still stands. A perfect vessel, but also a fragile one.”
The three gods fell silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts as they watched Alex. He was no ordinary mortal creature. He had faced gods, absorbed their power, and carrying within him something more dangerous than any weapon—potential, that could either save or destroy this world.
Eilistraee finally spoke again, her voice soft but resolute. “He may be a mortal, but he is also a champion. My champion. I will continue to watch over him, weakened or not. If his soul fractures further, then we must find a way to help him.”
Lathander’s gaze softened, and he placed a comforting hand on Eilistraee’s shoulder. “You have always been compassionate, Dark Maiden. Let us hope that compassion guides him through the trials ahead.”
“And let us be prepared,” Selûne added, her voice carrying the weight of celestial wisdom. “For whatever comes next.”
_____________
As Lathander, Selûne, and Eilistraee stood in quiet contemplation, a sudden ripple coursed through the ethereal space of the celestial realm. The glow of the stars flickered, as if momentarily dimmed by an unseen force. The air grew heavier, saturated with the presence of something—someone—far older, far more primal.
His presence was overwhelming, a vastness that transcended form or substance. Ao, the Overgod, the supreme authority over all gods and the arbiter of divine law, strode into the scene. He needed no physical shape, yet to interact with the lesser gods, he often chose one. This time, he appeared as a robed figure wrapped in stars themselves, his eyes empty, void-like, gazing into eternity.
“Lathander,” Ao’s voice echoed, deep and resonant, seeming to come from every corner of the infinite space. “Selûne. Eilistraee. You three meddle in mortal affairs far more than is warranted.”
The three gods turned toward him, each bowing their heads in respect, though Eilistraee’s movement was slower. The Overgod’s arrival was never taken lightly; his authority surpassed even the most ancient and powerful deities.
“Ao,” Lathander began, his voice calm yet tinged with reverence. “We only gave Alex what he needed to stand against a greater evil. Myrkul—”
“I know,” Ao interrupted, his gaze sharp and his tone neutral. “And yet you failed to see the larger consequences of your actions. You are too eager to place divine power in mortal hands.”
There was a weight to Ao’s words that made the other gods fall silent. It was a reminder of their place, even as powerful gods, within the order Ao had established. But Lathander, took a step forward.
“We had no choice,” Lathander insisted, his voice growing more fervent with each word. “Myrkul, Bane, and Bhaal—their schemes threaten the very existence of Faerûn. If their plans come to fruition—"
Ao’s eyes narrowed, his cosmic form seeming to grow denser. Stars swirled more fiercely around his robed figure, his authority palpable. He already knew of the Crown of Karsus—an danger not only to the gods but to the order of the cosmos itself.
“You speak truth, Morninglord,” Ao replied, his voice softer now, yet no less commanding. “Myrkul and his fellow usurpers have indeed overstepped their bounds. Their actions threaten to unravel far more than they realize. But in your haste, you should have come to me first, rather than acting rashly. The balance of Faerûn—and beyond—hangs by a thread because of their reckless ambition.”
Selûne, took a step forward, her silver form shimmering like moonlight on a still lake. “Ao, we feared that even we, as gods, would not be able to reach you in time. The situation escalated quickly. Alex was… a unique solution. His soul, fractured though it may be, allowed him to channel the divine energy needed to stop Myrkul.”
Ao turned his void-like gaze to Selûne. “You are correct about Alex. He is unique. But in granting him such power, you risked creating an imbalance. His soul—strong as it is—was never meant to hold so much divine essence. It could shatter entirely, and if that happens, the consequences would ripple across both the mortal and divine realms.”
Eilistraee, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke, her voice soft yet determined. “I have faith in him, Ao. He is no ordinary mortal. He absorbed the power willingly, knowing the risks. But he used it for good, not for personal gain or glory. He stood against the forces of Myrkul and Shar. He is my champion.”
Ao’s form shifted slightly, a flicker of something inscrutable passing through him. “Faith is a fine thing, Dark Maiden, but the Dead Three are not so easily dealt with. His kin still plan. They are far from defeated.”
Lathander’s face darkened .
Ao’s gaze turned cold, almost distant, as if considering possibilities beyond the comprehension of even the gods before him.
Eilistraee, sensing Ao’s unspoken warning, cast a worried glance at Lathander and Selûne. “And Alex? What of him? What will happen to him?”
Ao’s expression remained impassive. “Alex is now tied to this greater conflict. Whether he realizes it or not, his fate and the fate of the gods are intertwined. He may hold your divine energy, but that does not mean he will be safe. The fractures in his soul make him vulnerable.”
Lathander’s jaw tightened. “Then we must ensure he does not fall.”
Ao turned, his gaze locking onto Lathander. “You should concern yourself less with your mortal, Morninglord, and more with your own actions. "
As Ao’s words echoed in the celestial space, he began to fade, his starry form dissolving into the ether. “You have meddled enough for now,” his voice reverberated through the cosmos. “But the time is coming when even gods must answer for their actions. I will be watching.”
And with that, the Overgod was gone, leaving the three deities standing in silence, each of them contemplating the weight of Ao’s warning.
Eilistraee, her light dimming even further, whispered to herself, “Alex… you are caught in the center of something far greater than you know.”
_______________
Alex walked slowly across the bridge that led to Moonrise Towers, his steps light but purposeful. The once imposing structure no longer loomed with menace, its dark, twisted grandeur now muted. The eerie pole lights, which once glowed with trapped pixies' light, were now dim, the tiny beings inside finally freed. There was an odd peace about the place now, as though it had been cleansed of its darkness. He inhaled deeply as he neared the entrance, his senses picking up faint hints of celebration carried on the cool humid breeze.
As he approached the grand entrance, the soft sounds of laughter and music greeted him, growing louder with every step. With a gentle push, the massive doors creaked open.
Inside the grand hall, joy and life pulsated in every corner. The grim shadows that had once haunted this place were replaced with laughter, warmth, and light. Alfira strummed her lute in the center of a small stage, accompanied by a few Harpers, their music carrying a vibrant energy that lifted the spirits of all around. Her fingers danced across the strings with ease, her face illuminated by the sheer joy of the moment.
Karlach stood nearby, a wide grin plastered across her face as she joked with Wyll. Though Wyll smiled and laughed, Alex could see the weight in his eyes, the lingering sadness from the loss of Florrick—a pain he was masking for the sake of the celebration. Alex's heart ached for him, understanding too well the sacrifices that had been made along the way.
In another corner, Astarion stood talking to a slightly tipsy elf. Alex couldn’t help but smirk at the sight, his mind half-jokingly wondering if Astarion was flirting or simply deciding if the elf looked like a good snack. The thought passed as quickly as it came, but it reminded him of the complicated, yet endearing, relationships he'd built with these people.
Lae'zel had softened in this moment. She sat cross-legged, playing with a young githyanki boy who laughed and smiled freely. The sight of her, usually so rigid and disciplined, now laughing with childlike abandon, tugged at something deep within Alex. He couldn't help but smile at how much even the fiercest warriors could change.
On the other side of the room, Shadowheart shared a drink with Ellyka and Gale, her once-shadowed eyes now full of light as they chatted away. 'She dyed her hair', Alex thought, noticing that her once midnight-black hair was now silvery. Her laughter echoed softly in the air, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Alex saw a woman not weighed down by guilt or duty, but simply enjoying the moment.
Aylin and Isobel danced in the center of the hall, their movements fluid and in perfect harmony, as though the very stars were watching them with envy. The way they gazed at one another was a sight to behold—pure love, unburdened and free.
Jaheira and Halsin stood near a grand hearth, Jaheira's face lit up with genuine, unrestrained laughter as Halsin animatedly recounted one of his stories.
Even Lump, the ogre, danced off to one side in his own clumsy but joyous way, careful not to disturb the others as he bobbed his head to the music. His presence alone was enough to draw amused glances, but no one minded. Tonight was a night of celebration for all.
Glut and Shadow observed from the outskirts, their expressions unreadable, but even they seemed at ease. Near them, a skeleton dog, Scratch, and the owlbear cub were happily rolling and tumbling together, their playful energy radiating warmth. Bullet, despite his imposing size, lay contentedly nearby, letting the smaller creatures jump over him as if they were old friends.
The hall, though large, felt small with so many lives intertwined. Zevlor, surrounded by his fellow tieflings, raised a drink in Alex’s direction before continuing to regale his companions with tales of their journey.
Amid the revelry, Karlach’s nostrils flared as she caught his scent. Her gaze snapped toward him, and in an instant, her wide smile returned, brighter than the flames dancing around her body. She threw her arms wide and shouted, her voice booming over the music and chatter, "The hero is here!"
The room fell silent as every eye turned to Alex. For a heartbeat, all he could hear was the thrum of his own heart in his chest. The weight of everything—the battles, the sacrifices, the losses—washed over him. And yet, in this moment, surrounded by the very people he fought so hard to protect, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
He didn’t need to say anything. His presence alone was enough. Their journey had cost them dearly, this moment was theirs to savor.