The skies above Caldera were alive with chaos and divine fury. Golden, angelic figures descended from the heavens, their wings spread wide like brilliant suns, casting long shadows over the shattered moon. They weren’t mere apparitions—they were the angels of Heaven’s lowest caste, warriors sent to breach the Veil and reclaim the mortal realm. Their bodies shimmered with celestial light, their eyes burning with a cold, righteous fury. Some had multiple sets of wings, others were covered in eyes that blinked in eerie unison, while others still had monstrous forms that defied human understanding—cherubim with flaming wheels, seraphim with wings and eyes glowing like stars.
Sophia stood at the heart of the battlefield, her mind stretched beyond the physical realm as her divination magic linked her to every corner of the conflict. She split her consciousness into multiple streams of thought and action, casting five spells simultaneously to aid Mike, who fought in their merged form, Valicar. Her spells shielded the Imperial fleet, strengthened the ground forces, and amplified Mike’s attacks while also hindering the angelic forces in space and on the moon.
Despite her focus, the full weight of the divine invasion pressed down on Sophia’s mind. These angels weren’t just creatures of light; their presence warped reality itself. Their wings blazed like miniature suns, their towering forms crackling with raw, celestial power. The Empire’s fleet was in chaos—half of it had already turned traitor, the Templar Order having succumbed to possession by holy magic, much like the demonic corruption that had claimed their enemies in past wars. The possessed Templars, now vessels for divine power, fought with fanatical zeal, turning their weapons against their own comrades. While the angels aided the fleet’s remnants, it was the traitorous Templars who inflicted the most damage. Celestial dreadnoughts loomed over the moon like harbingers of doom, and the fleet’s shields faltered, struggling to hold under the relentless divine onslaught.
Sophia could see it all—feel it all. Every moment of the battle unfolded in her mind, and she felt every tremor, every scream, every surge of divine power as if it were happening within her own body. She could see the fleet above holding by a thread, protected only by the magic she infused into their shields. Below, Raz carved a path of golden destruction through the angelic forces, her dragon form moving with deadly precision.
But then, her attention snapped to Easton.
"You would bring heaven’s army here!" Easton roared, his voice echoing across the battlefield as he charged toward his father. His divine blood pulsed with power, and his sword and axe gleamed as they caught the light of the shattered moon. Fury ignited every muscle in his body as he rushed at Yalgarth—the corrupted form of the Pillar of the North, the being who had once been his father.
Sophia’s heart clenched as she watched. The power between them was terrifying, and she felt the tension in Easton’s body as he threw himself at Yalgarth's possessed form with everything he had.
But it wasn’t enough.
Eckheart sneered, his corrupted form massive and imposing as he swung his massive arm in a brutal backhanded strike. The force of it was like a mountain slamming into Easton’s chest, and Sophia’s vision blurred as she saw him sent hurtling into the sky, limbs flailing as he soared upward, the breath knocked clean out of him.
The sound of bones cracking reached her mind through the spell link, and the Pillar’s mocking laughter followed Easton into the void. "You are nothing but a disappointment!"
Sophia gasped, almost losing control of her spells for a moment. Her mind raced, torn between maintaining her focus on the battlefield and the burning concern for Easton, who was now spinning helplessly toward the darkness of space.
But before she could do anything, Raz moved.
The golden dragon shot into the void after Easton, her massive wings beating furiously as she tore through the divine beams aimed at her. Sophia could feel the raw power pulsing in Raz, her righteous fury burning brighter than ever. Her claws raked through angelic flesh and bone, sending their divine bodies spiraling into the abyss as she cleared a path toward Easton.
"Get it together!" Raz growled as she reached Easton just in time, her claws closing around him before he tumbled too far. Her golden eyes gleamed with determination as she steadied his form, her wings beating rhythmically to keep them both aloft.
Sophia watched, her mind split between keeping Mike’s battle intact and following Raz’s movements. The dragon’s intervention had been quick, almost too fast for Sophia to track, but the bond between Raz and Easton was clear. Even through the chaos, their understanding of each other was seamless.
"You’re not done yet," Raz growled, her voice filled with both command and care.
Easton grunted in response, still catching his breath as he shook off the disorientation. He gazed up at the vast host of angels and celestial beings descending toward the moon, their wings shimmering with divine light.
"Keep them off us, Raz! Hold the line!" Easton barked, his voice regaining its strength.
Raz roared in acknowledgment, her form twisting through the angels like a living storm. She became a blur of scales, fire, and claws, a whirlwind of destruction that tore through the angelic forces without mercy. Each strike of her tail shattered wings and sent divine bodies plummeting toward the surface below.
Easton didn’t waste a second. He used Raz’s back as a launch point, propelling himself forward with a burst of divine energy. His form became a golden streak as he rocketed toward the moon, slicing through the ranks of celestial beings as if they were nothing more than paper. His sword and axe moved with deadly precision, cleaving through wings and bodies as his speed built, energy crackling around him like a storm.
Sophia felt a surge of admiration for both of them, impressed by the way they moved as a unit. Raz and Easton had become close allies in her absence, and she was grateful for their understanding of each other. It was the kind of bond that only came through shared battles and unspoken respect.
As Easton descended, Sophia’s attention snapped back to Mike.
On the moon’s surface, Mike and Sophia moved as one, their half-dragon, half-fallen angel form radiating devastating power. Crimson and black-gold wings beat in perfect harmony, a mesmerizing display of destruction as they evaded Yalgarth's monstrous blade, each swing tearing the battlefield apart with brutal shockwaves. But they stood firm, unyielding.
"Hold this cunt in space, Lord of Light, I command as the ruler of Hell! Kurals!" Mike roared, his voice filled with fury and dominance. He had seen Sophia’s gravity spell only once, but he already understood its intricacies, learned from it, and pushed it far beyond its limits. With a mere thought, he bent the spell to his will, overloading it with his own infernal power.
The effect was immediate and overwhelming. Yalgarth’s hulking form struggled as gravity intensified around him, warping space, and holding him immobile in midair. But as the spell surged through them, Sophia felt the toll—the searing agony of Mike’s power burning through Valicar’s body, scorching her soul. Her blood boiled, pouring from their shared mouth as their combined form began to tremble under the immense pressure. The weight of Mike's raw energy tore at them, threatening to rip their form apart from the inside.
"Is this all you have, Valicar?" The twisted voice of Eckheart echoed through his puppet, Yalgarth, whose eyes glowed with divine malice as he raised his massive sword for another devastating strike. His stolen orcish face twisted into a sneer. "You're falling apart, Mike. And you, Sophia—look at you, struggling under the weight of power you can't control. It’s pathetic."
Sophia felt Mike's determination burning within her, but the strain was becoming unbearable. Together, they met Yalgarth's attack head-on, their combined strength barely holding against the force of the blow. Golden and black blood seeped from Valicar's wounds, dripping onto the shattered surface of the moon. Each clash sent shockwaves through Sophia's body, her very essence cracking under the pressure. She struggled to maintain her hold on the fusion, the pain almost unbearable.
Even as she fought, Sophia's mind remained split. Through her divination, she tracked Easton's progress as he plummeted toward them from orbit, his body glowing with divine energy. He was becoming a living comet, hurtling toward Yalgarth with the fury of a son betrayed. She could feel the tension in the air, the palpable energy between father and son.
The ground quaked beneath them as Easton finally struck. His sword came down with a deafening crash, the golden energy of his divine bloodline surging into Yalgarth's chest. The impact sent a shockwave across the battlefield, shaking the very surface of the moon and sending waves of celestial beings tumbling. For a moment, hope surged through Sophia.
But Yalgarth stood firm, his body trembling but not falling. Eckheart's grip on him was too strong.
"You came crawling back to me, Easton?" Eckheart's voice echoed through Yalgarth's stolen form, laced with disdain. "Do you still think you can escape your bloodline? You are mine, boy—my heir. Join me now, and we could crush all who stand in our way. We could even rule together under, Merik."
Easton landed beside Mike and Sophia, his axe humming with divine energy. His gaze burned with defiance. "I’m not the sorry excuse for a puppet you're dragging around, Eckheart," Easton spat, glancing at Yalgarth’s twisted orcish features. "You and your 'father' can eat shit. I’ll never be your pawn."
Yalgarth’s eyes blazed with fury, and without a word, he swung his massive sword down, aiming to cut Easton in half. But before the blade could reach him, Mike stepped in, his own power flaring as Demon’s Bane intercepted the blow. The force of their collision sent tremors rippling through the moon’s surface.
"How many times do we have to kick your ass, cunt?" Mike snarled, his voice carrying a deadly edge. The souls he wielded surged with every swing, cracking Yalgarth’s defenses. "You’re nothing but a pathetic puppet, clinging to power long past its prime."
Yalgarth, fueled by Eckheart’s power, let out a roar, his divine form flickering under Mike’s relentless barrage. Desperate, the Pillar unleashed a burst of golden light—divine beams firing toward both Mike and Easton. But they were ready, deflecting the assault in perfect synchronization, their combined strength holding against the blast.
Eckheart’s voice oozed venom as Yalgarth’s head twisted to face Mike. "If you had been my son, Mike, we would’ve torn Heaven and Hell apart. But instead, I’m left with a failure who couldn’t even hold an empire—and a madman who can’t stop destroying everything he touches."
Mike’s lips curled into a grim smile as he glanced at Easton before turning his gaze back to Eckheart. "You’re really desperate, aren’t you?" he taunted. "Willing to adopt anyone who’ll give you a hand. Can’t keep a family together, so you’re just out here trying to recruit replacements."
He turned to Easton with a smirk. "You think he’s holding auditions for a new family?"
Easton snorted, his axe glowing with divine energy. "Looks like it. I’ll pass though. His blood doesn’t mean a damn thing to me anymore."
Mike’s grin widened, the humor masking the deadly edge in his voice. "I’ve already killed one father," he said, gripping Demon’s Bane tighter. "You would’ve just been another body. Sorry, Eckheart—this ain’t Alabama, and my family ain’t fucking me over."
Eckheart’s stolen orcish face twisted in confusion, his eyes narrowing in disbelief at Mike’s flippant attitude. For a brief moment, the god seemed taken aback by the sheer irreverence. But then, his confusion turned to fury, his divine essence flaring with renewed rage.
"How dare you mock me!" Eckheart bellowed, his voice shaking the battlefield. His massive blade crashed down with brutal force, aiming to cleave Mike in two. "You take this lightly? I am the Pillar of the North, and you are nothing but a speck!"
But Mike met his attack head-on, the clash of their blades sending shockwaves through the air. The force of Eckheart’s strikes intensified as he redoubled his efforts, desperate to crush Mike for his insolence. Sparks flew, the sheer pressure of their power threatening to tear the ground beneath them apart.
"Come on, then," Mike growled through gritted teeth, barely holding back a laugh as he blocked another swing. "Let’s see if you can make me take you seriously."
The two pressed their assault, a seamless flurry of blows. Every strike forced Yalgarth back, their combined might too great for the Pillar’s puppet to withstand. Mike’s movements grew sharper, more precise, as he entered a fighting trance, his instincts taking over. Each swing of Demon’s Bane felt effortless, and with every hit, they pushed Yalgarth further toward the brink.
But even in the heat of battle, something gnawed at the back of Mike’s mind. Sophia had been too quiet—eerily so. She hadn’t said anything beyond the spells she was casting, and that silence, even in their perfect synchronization, felt wrong. It wasn’t like her. Normally, she’d be barking orders, cursing their enemies, or offering some sarcastic remark, but now it was just spell after spell, one after the other.
Her magic was relentless. Chain lightning crackled through the air, ripping into Yalgarth with brutal precision. Then came the miniature nukes, detonating point-blank in the Pillar’s face, the shockwaves contained by the barrier Mike summoned just in time. The sheer destructive force was staggering, and yet, Sophia’s focus never wavered. She cast like she was several people at once, her mind split into multiple streams of thought, each controlling a different spell. It was impressive—no, terrifying—but the cold efficiency of it unsettled Mike.
As the nukes exploded, Mike held the shield steady, directing the full blast at Yalgarth. The Pillar’s form shook under the onslaught, divine energy sputtering as it tried to hold against the barrage. But even as Yalgarth orcish form stumbled, Mike’s attention kept flickering to Sophia, to the absence of her usual fire.
His gut told him something was wrong.
For, as the battle raged on and Mike unleashed more of his overwhelming power, Sophia’s strength began to falter. Containing Mike’s raw, unrestrained energy was tearing her apart from the inside. She gasped, her breath ragged, her limbs trembling violently as black and golden blood oozed from Valicar’s torn skin. Every pulse of Mike’s power sent searing, burning waves through her body, like molten fire ripping at her insides.
Her bones cracked under the immense pressure, reforming only to splinter again. It was like her body was being crushed and rebuilt over and over in the span of mere seconds. Her skin blistered, blood boiling just beneath the surface as the relentless power surged uncontrollably. It was too much, too fast, and her vision blurred with each fresh wave of agony.
Sophia gritted her teeth, struggling to stay upright, to keep casting. But she was breaking—cracking at the seams as she fought to keep up with the ferocious pace of Mike’s escalating fury. Inside her, it felt as if every piece of her was being ripped apart, yet she forced herself to endure, casting spell after spell without a word, knowing that stopping now would mean both their deaths.
Each time Yalgarth, the Pillar of the North’s puppet, struck them, it wasn’t his blows that nearly destroyed her—it was Mike’s. Every strike, every surge of his overwhelming power was doing more damage to her than the enemy could. The Pillar’s monstrous form laughed at them through Yalgarth’s stolen orcish face, mocking as they hacked at him, relentless, yet unable to finish him.
"Mike…" she whispered, her voice ragged and barely audible through the chaos. Her teeth ground together, bones splintering under the strain as she forced out the words. "You have to… finish this soon with one attack if possible… or I won’t be able to keep us alive. You’re… killing me."
Mike’s focus sharpened, but he wasn’t ready to let her go. Not yet. His grip on her—on the power—tightened as his heart pounded, the fear of losing her crashing through him. He could feel her body breaking, her insides twisting with every surge, but the thought of releasing her now was unbearable.
"Damn it, Sophia… I’m sorry!" Mike growled, his voice thick with emotion, barely holding himself together. "But I can’t lose you again. Not now. I need more time."
Sophia’s eyes, bloodshot and clouded with pain, still found his. "You won’t," she rasped, her voice a frail breath. "But if you stay… you’ll tear me apart… from the inside." A weak, grim smile crossed her lips, teeth stained with blood. "Finish this… or I’ll die anyway."
Their shared body lurched forward as they hacked at Yalgarth, but no matter how many times they struck, how much of Mike’s soul-fueled power surged into their blows, the Pillar’s puppet wouldn’t fall. Yalgarth sneered at them, eyes blazing with mockery. His orcish body, twisted by Eckheart’s divine corruption, barely flinched as Demon’s Bane carved into him.
"You have the power to stop me, Mike!" Eckheart’s voice rang through Yalgarth’s lips, taunting, cruel. "But you lack the body to do it! Join me… tear apart this Veil, and you can rule with me. Imagine it—you, your sister… your family whole, for eternity."
Mike’s fury surged, his eyes burning as he glared at Yalgarth. "Fuck off!" he spat, voice trembling with rage as his fists clenched around Demon’s Bane. "You won’t win." But despite his defiance, Sophia could feel the strain growing.
Yalgarth laughed coldly, pushing back their assault with a brutal strike, nearly shattering Valicar’s arm. "You’re a fool, Mike. You can’t contain that power forever. You’re only prolonging her suffering."
Sophia’s bones cracked again, her body screaming as black and golden blood gushed from the wounds. Her chest felt like it would collapse under the force of Mike’s power, her heart struggling to beat as her blood boiled. She let out a sharp gasp, her breath coming in desperate, ragged gulps.
"Please…" she gasped, her voice breaking as she fought to hold on. "Mike… finish it. Just one final strike." Her hands trembled, barely able to hold the blade. "I can’t hold us together… for much longer."
Mike’s eyes darted to Sophia’s twisted form, her face pale, blood pouring from her eyes and mouth. She was breaking beneath his power, her body crumbling. He couldn’t let her die for him. His heart twisted with guilt as he felt her agony in every breath.
Easton’s voice cut through the din of battle, sharp and unrelenting. "Mike, let her go!" Easton bellowed, his axe blazing with holy fire as he drove the Pillar back with a series of brutal strikes. "You need to end this, and you can’t do it while you’re killing her! I can buy you a little time—just do it, dammit!"
Mike looked down at his sister, trembling hands, falling apart. His mind raced, torn between holding on and letting her go. He couldn’t bear to watch her suffer anymore.
"I can’t…" Sophia’s voice was faint, barely a whisper now, her body convulsing. "I love you, Mike… but if you don’t finish this, it could destroy all we fought for." Her smile was sad, but filled with trust. "Stay with me and finish this... please."
Mike’s heart shattered. His grip on Demon’s Bane tightened, his decision made. He wouldn’t let her suffer for him any longer.
"It won’t…" Mike growled, his voice low and pained. "But that’s okay… because you’ll seal the Veil again. I’ll leave you enough souls to do it. I’ll drive the gods back into heaven and hell, and you’ll lock me away with them. Goodbye, Sophia."
He began the incantation, the words spilling out in anguish. "Al mruas vosl."
"Mike—no!" Sophia cried, her voice filled with pain, but it was too late.
In one violent, heart-wrenching motion, Mike forced himself out of Sophia’s body. The separation sent a shockwave ripping across the battlefield, shaking the ground beneath them, shattering the surface of the moon. Sophia collapsed, gasping for air as Mike’s power tore out of her, leaving her trembling, weak, and barely alive. Black and golden blood gushed from Valicar’s broken form as she tried to stay conscious, her body a ruin of scorched flesh and shattered bones.
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Mike, now fully free, stood in his true form. His wings—one black as the void, the other glowing with celestial fire—unfurled, casting an ominous shadow over the battlefield. His armor, black and gold, shimmered with the raw power of the souls he had consumed, his eyes blazing with unrestrained fury.
He turned to Eckheart, who stood within Yalgarth’s body, sneering. "Now, I can go all out," Mike said, his voice filled with a deadly calm, "let’s finish this."
Sophia, lying broken on the ground, could only watch through a haze of blood and agony. “Fucking end it, Mike…” she whispered, barely holding on. "God damn you for making me do this... I love you, idiot."
As Mike's influence withdrew from her, Sophia’s body began to shift, reverting to its true form. The black and gold that had once pulsed through her veins faded, turning back to a deep crimson as she healed. Her wings, once a dark blend of divine and demonic power, returned to their natural red and blue hues, shimmering with the familiar energy of her old self. Her hair, too, transitioned from the purple strands to the vibrant red and blue that defined Valicar, her polymorph spell changing back as Mike’s overwhelming power left her. The horns that had changed under his influence re-emerged, curling in their original distinctive shape, signaling the return of her original form—Valicar reborn, her true self once again as his divine armor vanish along with his blade in her hand.
Easton, his energy crackling with divine fire, pushed Yalgarth back with renewed ferocity. "We need to drive him to the tear!" he shouted, his voice raw with determination as he swung his gleaming axe. "Raz is holding the line, but if we push him through, we can end this!"
Mike, his wings stretching wide, moved beside him, his form radiating power. "Then let's kill a god." His voice was cold, steely, as if he had become something beyond mortal or even divine.
In a blur of black and gold, Mike surged forward, his blade, Demon’s Bane, a whirlwind of destruction. His movements surpassed the speed of light, so fast that Yalgarth couldn’t fully anticipate him. Each swing of his sword bent the fabric of space itself, the very air crackling as atoms were manipulated, shattered, and ripped apart in the wake of his strikes.
"Laera bans rual!" Mike’s voice echoed through the shattered landscape, thick with raw power. His mastery over time and space, learned from Sophia, allowed him to do the impossible when he leveraged his full power. As the spell warped reality, time slowed to a crawl, the entire battlefield frozen in eerie stillness. Yalgarth’s once-massive swings became sluggish, his divine might reduced to near-nothing as Mike moved faster than thought—his body transcending light, existing in multiple places at once, as he broke through the limits of physical speed.
Mike’s control over the universe was absolute. He manipulated both time and space with the precision of a god, bending them to his will as he struck with devastating precision, each blow landing with the force of a collapsing star. His power was far beyond anything Yalgarth could comprehend—he wasn’t just moving faster than light, he was everywhere, all at once, a force of destruction incarnate.
Mike's attacks weren’t just sword strikes—they were spells of devastation, ancient incantations he had only just learned from Sophia. Each cut through Yalgarth’s divine armor manipulated not just the physical realm but the laws of the universe. With each swing, space itself bent, the air warping as if being pulled apart by invisible hands.
"Krausv!" Mike roared, his voice vibrating with unrestrained power, shaking the very fabric of existence. The battlefield groaned in response, as gravity itself shifted under his command. The air grew impossibly dense, the ground trembling violently as the pull of his spell intensified. The immense force dragged everything toward the flickering tear in the Veil, a tidal wave of unseen power crushing the remnants of the divine invaders.
Angels, once soaring above with divine grace, now struggled in vain against the overwhelming force. Their wings flailed helplessly, feathers singed as they were ripped from the sky and pulled inexorably toward the rift. Their once-blazing light flickered and dimmed, their desperate cries echoing as they vanished into the abyss.
Yalgarth, too, felt the crushing weight bearing down on him. His massive orcish form, twisted and filled with Eckheart’s power, buckled inch by inch under the immense gravitational force. The Pillar's vessel, once indomitable, now trembled, struggling to maintain its form as the strain of containing Eckheart’s full power pushed it to its breaking point. Desperation radiated from Eckheart, pouring every ounce of his divine strength into Yalgarth’s failing body, his corrupted power flickering and splintering as the rift loomed closer, threatening to swallow them whole.
The sheer force of Mike’s magic was overwhelming, warping the battlefield. Chunks of moon rock were lifted and hurled into the void, the ground beneath them fractured and pulled apart. The celestial dreadnoughts looming overhead trembled as Mike’s spell wrenched at the fabric of space itself, pulling everything toward the tear where the gods had once emerged.
Yalgarth roared in fury, his divine energy flaring as he tried to resist. Golden beams of pure holy power shot from his hands, aimed directly at Mike and Easton. But Mike was already chanting again, his focus unbroken.
"Laera bans rual!" The time-slowing spell activated once more, and the beams of light sluggishly crawled toward Mike as though swimming through molasses. With precise movements, he deflected them with a flick of Demon’s Bane, sending the divine energy scattering harmlessly into the blackness of space. His form was a blur of dark, celestial power, too fast for even Eckheart’s corrupted mind to fully comprehend.
Every strike Mike delivered bent the fabric of reality, twisting space around him as atoms shattered and time itself seemed to fold. Yalgarth’s divine vessel, once a symbol of his overwhelming strength, was cracking under Mike’s relentless onslaught. Golden light seeped from every fissure as the gravity spell crushed him, pulling his divine essence toward the rift in the Veil.
Yalgarth’s—no, Eckheart’s—face twisted in fury as he fought against the pull, unleashing torrents of holy light in a final, desperate bid to break free. But Mike was already beyond mortal limits, beyond even the gods who had once ruled over him. His command of both hellfire and divine power allowed him to manipulate the very laws of the universe. Each flick of his blade seemed to sever another tether keeping Eckheart in this world.
"Krausv!" Mike’s voice echoed as he amplified the gravity, the battlefield trembling under the immense pressure. Ships in orbit shook, celestial beings were caught in the vortex, their divine wings thrashing in vain as they were dragged toward the closing tear.
Eckheart, pure divine energy now, writhed as the pull intensified. His rage and desperation twisted his features. "You think you can defy me? I am beyond you!" Eckheart roared, his voice rippling across the battlefield. His once-mighty form began to fracture, divine light pouring from the cracks as his essence was torn apart.
Easton, his eyes blazing with holy fire, seized his moment. With every ounce of strength he had left, he raised his axe high, divine power crackling around it. His voice boomed like thunder. "Lord of Light, Merik, be damned by my birthright. I banish you from my world!"
The battlefield trembled as his words carried the weight of his ascension. He was no longer just a demigod—the power of godhood surged through him. Golden light enveloped his form, his wings flaring out behind him as he became something more than he had ever been. With a roar that echoed across the heavens, Easton’s axe came down in a deadly arc, cleaving through Eckheart’s final defenses.
Golden light exploded from the wound, divine energy fracturing and splintering as Eckheart’s essence unraveled. The god’s scream of rage filled the battlefield, his form flickering as he was dragged, inch by inch, toward the Veil.
"You’ve got nowhere left to run, Eckheart!" Mike snarled, stepping forward, his voice filled with cold finality. "I’m going to kill you a second time."
Just as Eckheart’s shattered essence was being sucked into the Veil, thick, pulsating black chains shot from the tear, wrapping around his splintering form. The ground trembled beneath them, and from within the rift, a deep, guttural roar echoed.
"Damn you, James!" Eckheart’s voice shook with fury and betrayal as the chains pulled him deeper into the abyss. "Does my family ever stop betraying me?"
Emerging from the shadows of the divine realm was James, now fully ascended as an Archdemon. His form was terrifying, his wings dark and leathery, stretched wide against the flickering tear, and his eyes blazed with infernal fire, promising unspeakable torment. The black chains that wrapped around Eckheart’s splintering form were his, thick and pulsating with dark energy, dragging the god deeper into the abyss. James had descended into Hell, fought its darkest horrors, and emerged as something far more terrible and twisted than before.
"You will pay for what you’ve done to the mortal realm, brother," James called, his voice a low growl that echoed across the battlefield. He pulled the chains tighter, his wings beating with terrible power. "Come now, where we belong."
With a final, brutal tug, the chains tightened around Eckheart, pulling him further into the tear, toward the infernal abyss waiting beyond. The Pillar struggled, his form flickering with divine light as he tried to resist, but the chains held firm.
Easton, his divine energy crackling around him like a storm ready to break, stepped forward. His golden wings unfurled, their radiance casting a blinding light across the battlefield as his ascension to godhood completed. The power coursing through him was overwhelming, but his voice, though cold, was steady—filled with both righteous anger and sorrow.
"I’m not the one who betrayed humanity," Easton spat, his eyes blazing with conviction as he leveled his axe at Eckheart. "But it’s your fault Tailia is dead. Mother, too. You almost ended the world twice, and now your brother and son are here to make it right."
His words hit like a hammer, the weight of centuries of betrayal and loss behind them. Easton’s voice was filled with both fury and a deep, unspoken pain, his final condemnation of his father ringing across the battlefield.
Eckheart’s scream of rage filled the void as the infernal chains tightened around him, pulling him deeper into the Veil. "I will not lose again! Damn you both!!!" he bellowed, his voice trembling with both fury and desperation as he struggled against the pull of his fate.
But his defiance was short-lived.
Before Eckheart could unleash another curse, Easton, radiant with divine light, made his move. With a roar filled with all the grief, anger, and righteousness that had shaped his path, Easton tackled his father, channeling every ounce of his godly strength into the attack. The collision shook the heavens themselves, the sheer force of their impact sending shockwaves rippling across the battlefield.
The universe trembled under the weight of the battle as the two celestial beings hurtled toward the flickering tear, a collision of divine power beyond mortal comprehension. And in that moment, Easton accepted his destiny. Golden wings spread wide, blazing with light, he charged beyond the Veil, dragging his father into the eternal war that raged beyond.
Easton’s hat was the last thing Mike saw as they both disappeared into the rift, the tear shimmering violently as it tried to close but couldn’t completely seal. The remaining angels continued to be dragged in by Mike’s gravity spell, their wings flailing in vain as they were sucked through, their cries lost in the endless void.
The tear continued to flicker, unstable, a portal between realms that would not fully close. For now, the main danger had passed, but the war beyond the Veil raged on. The Veil’s instability reflected the battle to come, a reminder that this was only a temporary reprieve.
Mike stood alone on the battlefield, surrounded by the wreckage, as he swept his long violet hair from his face with a single motion. Power radiated from him, rippling through the air with such intensity that the very fabric of space bent and distorted around him. His presence alone was a danger to the universe—ships in orbit crumbled under the crushing force of his gravity, debris disintegrating as reality itself buckled beneath the sheer weight of his existence.
He had become something more than either a god or demon—he was a higher-dimensional being, his power too vast for the mortal universe to contain. The stars flickered, the void itself trembled in response to his existence. His heart pounded, his chest heaving from the exertion, but his power only grew more unstable.
The tear in the Veil flickered, still open but struggling to remain stable. The very thing Mike had fought to protect—the barrier between worlds—was now rejecting him, kicking him out of the universe he had once called home. His presence threatened everything, warping the very essence of reality.
For a brief moment, the echoes of battle faded. The universe held its breath.
Mike, the last great threat standing in the universe, breathed heavily, his gaze lingering on the flickering tear in the Veil. He could feel the pull of the war beyond, the battle that still waited for him on the other side. But for now, in this brief moment of respite, he stood alone, his power still humming in the air around him. He had won—if only for now.
But the battle was not yet over.
As Easton and Eckheart had disappeared into the tear, the last remnants of the traitor Templars and celestial beings still fought against the gravitational pull of Mike’s spell. Their cries of desperation echoed across the battlefield, their radiant wings thrashing in vain as they clung to the mortal realm, unwilling to surrender to the fate that awaited them on the other side.
The traitor Templars, once proud warriors of the Empire, had long succumbed to possession by divine power, their bodies twisted and contorted by the holy magic that now consumed them. Their once-glistening armor was tarnished, their eyes glowing with a corrupted light as they staggered across the moon’s surface, desperately trying to resist the relentless pull toward the Veil.
Above them, the remaining angels, those who had fought with fervor and righteousness, flailed their wings in a last-ditch effort to escape the tear’s grasp. Their celestial forms shimmered with fading brilliance, their golden light dimming as the gravity of Mike’s spell dragged them inexorably toward the closing rift.
Mike watched them with cold detachment, his eyes blazing with the combined power of Heaven and Hell. He had no sympathy left for these remnants of the divine invasion. They had chosen their path, and now they would face the consequences.
"Krausv!" Mike roared, his voice carrying the weight of finality. The gravitational force intensified, the air itself warping under the sheer pressure of his magic. The traitor Templars fell to their knees, their armor cracking under the strain as they were dragged toward the tear. Some screamed, others cursed his name, but none could resist the overwhelming power that now bound them.
Above, the last of the angels, their once-proud wings now useless against the crushing force, were torn from the skies. One by one, they were pulled into the flickering tear, their radiant forms vanishing into the abyss beyond.
The moon's surface quaked beneath Mike's feet as the gravitational distortion reached its peak. The last of the traitors were pulled from the ground, their broken bodies hurtling toward the rift, their desperate cries lost to the void.
The Veil flickered wildly, struggling to contain the force of Mike’s spell as it sealed itself around the divine invaders. With a final surge of power, Mike thrust his hand toward the tear, his will bending the forces of the universe to his command.
"Return to the void you came from!" he growled through clenched teeth, as his horns glowed with other worldly power.
The tear responded, narrowing into a thin, shimmering line, the last fragments of the traitor Templars and angels vanishing into it. The universe held its breath as the tear shuddered one last time, now only big enough for one person to pass through.
Mike, the last great threat standing in the universe, exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling with the weight of the battle that had just ended. He had finished the job.
"Do It Sophia!" Mike’s voice cut through the chaos, his wings beating powerfully as he turned toward his sister.
Sophia stood on the cracked surface of the moon, her eyes glistening with tears. She could see the agony in Mike’s expression, the immense burden he carried as he unleashed this power. Her heart ached, knowing what it cost him—and what it was about to cost them all.
She raised her hands, her voice trembling as she began the final incantation to seal the tear. “Damn it, Mike… Joma nos viar… krastos!” she whispered, the ancient words falling from her lips like a prayer. Her hands glowed with a brilliant light, their warmth contrasting the cold void around her. As she channeled the immense power needed, the tear in the Veil began to shrink, closing inch by inch. Millions of souls burned away, their ethereal light consumed to fuel her spell. Each passing second felt like a lifetime as the energy pulsed through her, pushing her closer to the brink of exhaustion.
But then, a roar of anguish cut through the air.
"Mike!"
Altheack, her heart pounding with dread as she watched the scene unfold, couldn’t bear it any longer. With a fierce cry of desperation, she raised her arms to the heavens, her voice echoing across the battlefield. "Icurs na magles!" she chanted, her words charged with ancient magic. In an instant, her body began to transform, muscles rippling and bones shifting as her human form gave way to something far more powerful.
Her scales erupted from her skin, shimmering green and white like a beacon of life. Her wings unfurled, massive and radiant, catching the light of the broken moon above. This was no ordinary transformation—since her resurrection by Sophia, Altheack had grown stronger than ever before, her dragon form brimming with vitality and power. She was as strong as any dragon could be, perhaps stronger.
Raz’s grip remained ironclad as Altheack fought to break free, her sobs echoing across the ruined battlefield. The pain of watching Mike prepare to leave tore through her heart, and every beat of her wings felt like a futile attempt to stop the inevitable. But even as Altheack struggled, Raz’s golden eyes remained calm, steady.
"Please, whoever the hell you are, let go of me!" Altheack begged, her voice trembling as she struggled against the dragon’s ironclad grip. Panic and desperation coursed through her, her eyes wild as they darted toward Mike in the distance.
Raz, her golden scales gleaming in the dim light of the battlefield, held firm. Her voice was calm, steady, though her eyes betrayed a deep understanding of Altheack’s pain. "I’m a friend," she said softly, though her tone remained unwavering. "And please know, He’s doing this for you."
Altheack’s heart clenched at the words, tears spilling down her cheeks. "But I—" she started, her voice breaking.
"I know how you feel," Raz interrupted gently, her voice carrying a weight of wisdom and empathy. "Believe me, I understand. But Mike doesn’t want you in this fight. Please trust me. He’s doing this for you—he’s sacrificing this moment for you."
Altheack’s claws swiped at the air, desperation fueling her every motion, even though she knew, deep down, that Raz was right. Her powerful wings beat furiously as if sheer force of will could tear her from the golden dragon’s grasp. Tears poured down her face, her entire body trembling with grief and frustration. She wasn’t ready to accept it—not yet.
"Mike!" she screamed, her voice full of draconic power, breaking under the weight of her anguish. "Please! Don’t leave me again!"
Her heart ached, her soul burning with the desire to fight by his side, to refuse fate’s cruel hand. She fought against Raz’s hold, struggling even though she knew it was futile, the reality of Raz’s words sinking deeper into her mind with every moment.
Raz’s grip remained steady, her golden eyes filled with both empathy and sadness. She understood Altheack’s pain more than words could express. But even as Altheack fought, Raz held her firm, her strength unwavering, knowing that the only thing more devastating than Altheack’s suffering now would be her suffering if she were to follow Mike into that battle.
"He’s doing this to protect you," Raz murmured, her voice gentle but resolute. "I know it’s hard, but you have to trust him if you don't trust me."
In the distance, Mike paused, hearing her anguished cry. His wings—one as dark as the void and the other shimmering gold—beat slowly, his figure casting a long shadow as he neared the tear in the Veil. The pull of the eternal battle beyond the tear was undeniable, but the sound of Altheack’s voice broke something inside him.
Mike turned slightly, catching Raz’s gaze, and gave a subtle nod of understanding—a silent thank you. He knew Sophia would keep Altheack safe, even if it meant having someone hold her back from this fight. With one last glance at the love of his life, Mike’s eyes softened. His voice, though filled with sorrow, held a promise—one he knew he couldn’t break.
"I’m sorry, my love. I’ll see you again, and when I do, I’ll make you queen of Heaven and Hell," he whispered, his words carrying across the battlefield. "Marry me when I come back, Altheack. I’ll put a ring on your finger and make you my queen."
Altheack’s heart shattered at his words, her eyes wide with tears, but a smile broke through the sorrow as she managed to shout back, her voice filled with love and certainty. "Yes! I love you, Mike… and I’ll be waiting. Come back to me, and I’ll be your queen."
Mike’s smile deepened, his chest tightening at the sound of her voice, at her acceptance. He knew this was the only way, but it didn’t make leaving her behind any easier. As he turned toward the tear, another familiar voice rang out.
"Don’t take another ten thousand years this time, dumbass!" Sophia cried, her voice hoarse from the sobs she was trying to choke back, but her teasing tone still clear. "I’m gonna be your best man, and you better show up, Mike!"
Mike chuckled softly, the sound light and familiar even in the face of everything. "As soon as I’ve gutted Merik, I’ll be there. But seriously, you damn crybaby, stop crying. You’re making this harder."
Sophia wiped at her face, tears still falling, but a weak smile tugged at her lips. "Idiot," she muttered, her voice trembling as she tried to laugh through the tears.
Mike gave one last, affectionate look at both Altheack and Sophia before turning back toward the tear, his heart aching as he prepared to face the war awaiting him beyond the Veil. His expression softened, even though he couldn’t bring himself to meet their gazes. He knew if he did, it might break him entirely.
"I love both of you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, almost cracking under the weight of it. "Take care of each other until I return."
But as he stepped toward the tear, a single tear ran down his face, unseen by either of them. The tear in the Veil flickered, its ominous light pulling him toward the eternal war beyond, and though he knew what he had to do, it felt like a knife twisting in his chest. He wouldn't let them see him cry—not now, not ever. He had to be strong for them, even if it tore him apart inside.
With a final glance over his shoulder, filled with sorrow and love, Mike stepped through the rift, his back to them as the weight of his departure settled over him like a heavy shroud. He disappeared into the war beyond, leaving behind the two women he loved, his heart breaking in silence.
As the tear shimmered and began to close behind him, Altheack’s knees buckled when Raz finally released her. Her sobs mixed with the moon’s dust, wracking her entire body. She reached out toward where Mike had stood moments ago, her heart shattering as the realization of his absence hit her like a physical blow. Raz, standing tall over her, watched with golden eyes full of quiet understanding. She knew that, for now, they’d have to endure without him.
With trembling hands, Sophia raised them toward the tear, her voice heavy with the weight of the ancient incantation that would seal the Veil back to its original strength. Each word she spoke felt like a blade cutting through her soul. "Ljav ta mjas os," she whispered, her voice cracking under the strain of her sorrow. Slowly, the Veil began to shrink. The tear—the fragile passage between realms—started to close, its once brilliant light dimming as the battlefield around them was cast into shadow.
Sophia’s vision blurred with tears as she uttered the final words of the spell, her voice breaking. The Veil shimmered one last time and finally sealed shut, locking Mike, James, and Easton beyond its barrier, trapping them in the eternal war on the other side.
It was over.
The battlefield fell into a profound silence, the air still thick with the lingering echoes of the divine and infernal clash. Mike was gone.
Altheack, still lying on the ground, shifted back into her humanoid form. Her entire body trembled as sobs wracked her fragile frame. She fell to her knees, her hands trembling as they clawed at the moon’s surface, reaching helplessly for where Mike had once stood, as if she could somehow pull him back from beyond the Veil.
Sophia, nearly collapsing under the crushing weight of her grief and exhaustion, staggered before sinking to the ground beside her. The moon’s dust settled quietly around them as they both sat in stunned silence, their hearts shattered by the loss of the men they loved—men who were now trapped in a realm neither Sophia nor Altheack could ever reach.
For what seemed like an eternity, neither spoke. The silence was not empty but filled with the overwhelming weight of shared grief. Both women understood the immensity of their loss—far greater than anyone else could possibly comprehend. They had saved the universe, but the price was beyond measure.
Sophia stared into the empty space where the Veil had shimmered only moments before. Her thoughts spiraled with memories of Mike—the way he teased her, the way he had always been a constant presence in her life. Now, he was farther away than ever before, sealed beyond the Veil. She clutched the ground beneath her, her chest tight with the realization that she wouldn’t see him again for centuries. The thought of his absence tore at her, leaving her hollow.
Beside her, Altheack hugged her knees tightly to her chest, her entire body trembling as fresh tears streamed down her face. The man she loved was gone, once again sacrificed for a fight she couldn’t join. Every fiber of her being wanted to follow him, to join him beyond the Veil in that endless war. But Raz had stopped her, knowing what Altheack couldn’t yet accept—that Mike had made this choice for her sake. He wanted her to live, to survive without him.
But even knowing that didn’t ease the pain.
Sophia, sensing the depth of Altheack’s despair, reached out and gently took her hand, their fingers intertwining in silent recognition of the pain they both carried. "I’m so sorry," Sophia whispered, her voice raw and fragile from exhaustion and grief. "I wish it didn’t have to be like this."
Altheack swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "He promised he’d come back... but how long? How long until we see him again?"
Sophia closed her eyes, her heart heavy with the truth. "Centuries, Altheack. Maybe longer." Her voice trembled as she spoke, the weight of her words pressing down on them both. "But he will come back. I know it."
The silence stretched once more between them, this time not of emptiness, but of a shared, quiet acceptance—an acknowledgment of what had been lost and what they still had to face.