“What?” Chronell asked with shaking eyes.

“It is mine duty to guard this gate, however…” The one who referred to herself as Nike walked up to the wall and rested her back against it.

“It has been quite some time since I had some rest so feel free to pass me by.” She sighed while crossing her arms.

“Umm… why would you allow us to pass?” Chronell frowned while squeezing his spear as the weight of the air pressed on his shoulders.

“I have not rested in nearly a century. If you are weary of my words, so be it but I will not laze about forever and, if you are still here when I awake, I will kill you all.” Nike yawned prompting Chronell’s group to all exchange cautious glances.

“What lies beyond the light?” Chronell asked.

“He who holds the fate of all things or, as you know him, Chronothon,” Nike said without raising her head.

Chronell swallowed.

He had barely begun to process everything that had happened since they entered the Dungeon.

But somehow, he and his servants had reached the end of their quest after just taking their first step.

Was it too good to be true?

Could he fulfil his destiny so quickly?

Was he ready?

Or would he have to rely on his servants again?

Success meant absolute authority while failure most likely meant a terrible death at the hands of the End.

“Lord Chronell?” Vuren called out to her seemingly dazed master.

“Mmm? Yes... if this is where I am ultimately destined to stand then does coming back at a later date stand to change anything? Apologies if my wish is too impulsive but can I count on your help once more? I… I swear that if we manage to defeat Chronothon here and now I will spend the rest of my life fulfilling whatever wishes you would have!”

Each of Chronell’s servants fell to their knees.

“Victory shall be yours, My Lord Chronell!” Vuren loudly declared.

“I have always wondered what the Seat of the End looked like.” Flow wondered.

“Even Annihilation itself will feel the blaze of my Flame, young master!” Habab affirmed and this filled Chronell’s chest with passion.

He nodded curtly and faced the doorway before taking a single step forward.

His eyes glimmered with determination although his instincts told him to flee.

He chose to ignore that visceral feeling, opting against it and stepped into the white light.

What followed was a brief drop to a stone platform.

Chronell then suddenly tore off his helmet and let out a torrent of vomit as an almost painful level of dread washed over his body, twisting his stomach with agonizing pain.

His servants appeared next to him shortly after on a rectangular stone plane that seemed to be suspended in a sea of cold darkness.

Although the darkness didn’t extend endlessly.

At some point, beyond the vast body of ink blackness, were distant stars and galaxies.

Habab hurriedly reached down to help Chronell but before his hands could reach his master, a low, mind-numbing drone filled the air, driving everyone else to their knees.

Chronell struggled to maintain consciousness as the weight from before multiplied by what felt like a thousand folds.

He turned his teary eyes upwards and they widened as the darkness parted revealing an eye that was nearly twenty meters tall.

This eye, like Chronell’s, was reptilian only it glowed a soft white that bathed the rest of this dark space in light revealing that the body of darkness he was looking at was a single eyebrow.

An eyebrow that was covered in large, pitch-black scales.

The being before Chronell shifted itself backwards revealing it to be none other than the Black Dragon – Chronothon.

Its body was far too large for Chronell’s field of vision so, as tears fell from his eyes, he beheld only part of the Dragon’s head.

He noticed that its right eye was closed and its remaining colossal eye stared at him unblinkingly.

[My child.] Chronothon called in what sounded like a thousand voices which spoke a thousand tongues.

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A voice which warped space as it travelled making Chronell’s bones ache from the strain of being tugged back and forth.

[You kneel before me but as what? The End… or another sacrifice – a speck in the face of the infinite.]

Chronell was unable to respond.

He was barely able to stand and this seemed to be answer enough for Chronothon who’s eye brightened.

[Mmm… How cruel of her.]

Chronell’s vision began to fade but before he lost consciousness, the gigantic eye briefly flashed red.

Flow then suddenly jumped in front of Chronell and what followed filled him with terror.

Her body suddenly caught fire and she screamed while trying to claw off her clothes as the fire seemed to form around her body.

Chronell wanted to help but before he could Vuren tackled him to the side just as a massive wave of energy shot past his previous location.

“AHHH!” She screamed and it was here that her legs had been blown off from the midpoint of her thighs.

Chronell wanted to beg Chronothon to stop but before the thought of pleading even fully formed a beam of light shot towards him and Vuren as the humongous eye glowed yellow.

However, much to Chronell’s horror, Habab leapt in front of the beam while crossing his scimitars in front of his chest.

This was enough to absorb and even deflect the beam although a stray Flare struck his face knocking him backwards.

Chronell's face twisted with sorrow, dread and panic as the Dragon’s eyes brightened once more.

However, just as the end seemed well upon him, he was suddenly pulled backwards by an incredibly powerful force.

He watched as countless stars, the constellations they formed and all the dwelled between rushed past him as he was pulled across a distance he could not comprehend.

The next thing he saw was the moon rushing past him.

He then seemingly crashed into the ground and tore through it for a full minute or so before emerging into what appeared to be an underground city.

Beyond the city, at its furthest wall, was an eerily familiar doorway but at this point, Chronell’s mind had reached its limits.

He fell unconscious before landing and, as his awareness faded, he was haunted by visions of the Moon cracking in two.

.

..

Chronell was a child of prophecy.

As soon as he was born, he was handed to the priests who lived in the Moon Temple atop the Whistlewind Mountains of Everwinter.

They, along with the trio who would go on to serve him, were supposed to train and prepare Chronell for his confrontation with Chronothon.

However, he ended up being no stronger than the average human even though he held the Eyes of the End.

For nineteen years did he train atop the mount, mentored by a renowned Warrior from the monster-infested swamps of Vinemoore, a great Sage from the same harsh mountain peaks of Everwinter and a man who once served as advisor to the lord of the Burning Steppes.

But each year that passed proved a disappointment.

He possessed so little magical energy within him, it was like it wasn’t there.

And while training helped him get fit, he was barely any stronger than the average man which didn’t bode well in a world of monsters and magic.

The priests begged the Moon for answers but silent she remained until Chronell’s twentieth birthday when Flow received a message that she was asked to give to Chronell.

“Head south. If your strength won’t be found in training then it may very well lie on the Path Absolute or its many tributaries.”.

It was these words that sent Chronell south, towards the capital and to where he found himself.

He opened his eyes and as consciousness returned to him, it came with it a loud and painful ringing.

Terrible visions came next.

Or were they memories?

He let out a pained groan as he sat up.

He then let out a horrified scream upon seeing Flow’s body.

Next to her were Vuren and Habab although they were all unconscious.

Vuren had lost most of her legs and the upper part of Habab’s head was burnt.

“Teacher!” He cried while reaching out to Flow to see if she was still alive but she was entirely covered in burns.

He didn’t know what to do or where to begin.

He had been taught the basics of anatomy and medicine but what could he possibly do about such severe burns?

The first thing he resolved to do was to see if she was still breathing and so he placed his ear by her lips.

He then let out a shaking sigh upon hearing a faint wheeze.

With the knowledge that she was alive, he needed to remove the charred clothes that stuck to her skin and wrap her in bandages but where was he going to get bandages?

Where was he in the first place?

Chronell looked around to see that they were in some sort of dilapidated cell.

Its stone walls looked like they were on the verge of collapsing although its floor, with a shallow pool of water at its centre, was lined with grass amidst which strange flowers grew.

They, unlike the vibrant green grass, were grey. They each had many round petals and a dark centre.

Chronell looked up and deduced that he and his servants had crashed into the cell from above since there was a large hole in the ceiling.

He wanted to wonder how they ended up here or why but he shelved those questions and further inspected his surroundings.

The cell’s rusted iron door hung open and it looked like something had torn its way out.

Beyond the door was a hallway lined with similar iron doors which hung open.

It looked as though the sun’s morning light was seeping into this space but Chronell wasn’t so sure.

He distinctly remembered crashing through the ground.

Or maybe he imagined that…

Regardless, he stood up to check if Vuren and Habab were alive and his racing heart swelled upon hearing their feint breaths.

He inspected what was left of her legs and saw that her wounds had somehow already begun to heal.

Was this another gift from whatever force saved them?

Chronell remembered seeing a vision or a glimpse of the Moon but… he also remembered seeing it shatter.

“Mmm…” Chronell droned as his gut twisted into a terrified knot.

Was it the Moon that saved them?

If so and if she was shattered as a result…

Chronell bit his teeth as dread filled his mind but he remained steady.

This was his fault.

He owed his servants his life and then some for allowing them to experience such horror.

And so, with a determined, albeit still frightened, pair of eyes, he ventured beyond the cell’s walls to scout the area.

Any help or resources or even information he found would be priceless.

However, he didn’t have his shield or his spear meaning he was almost defenseless.

He figured that if he ran into something too dangerous to confront, he would just run away and so be walked into the corridor.

He made sure to cautiously peek into each cell he passed and most of them were empty.

All but one.

Laying on the floor of the last cell to the left, one which was next to a staircase that led up somewhere, was a corpse only it looked like it had extensively decayed.

What made Chronell pause were the threads and metallic chain links that hung from its body.

It looked like a soldier of a bygone era.

In its wizened grasp was a broken sword and a Sigil of some sort could be seen atop its rag.

It depicted a roaring sun which rose behind a mountain.

“Apologies, sir, but the present needs weapons from the past if it hopes to see the future,” Chronell muttered while reaching down to grab the sword but just as soon as the first of his fingers touched its antiquated leather hilt, the soldier's eyes burst with blue fire.

Chronell tried dashing backwards but the soldier grabbed his arm before he could get far and struck the young scion in the shoulder.