[M] The Throne of Gods: Memories of Divinity - IC

[RedKayne]

Kayne/Shadow Co-Op Part 2

With a trembling hand, Santav opened his palm, willing his old strength, his former power, to return—a final, desperate plea to fight back.

Nothing answered.

Santav let his hand fall limp as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Enjoy nothingness!!” Ginyumi shouted as he thrust the blade toward the Charred’s heart.

Ginyumi’s lance struck true.

…

Or so it should have.

An inch from Santav’s heart, a bead of pure blackness materialized—a fragment of nothingness that halted the weapon’s momentum as though the very concept of force itself had been erased. The bead, no larger than a coin, appeared flat and utterly two-dimensional, yet its presence radiated an overwhelming dread. Ginyumi’s breath caught in his throat. He immediately recognized this power, though it had not been witnessed in nearly a decade. Widely feared across the multiverse, it was the harbinger of a being whose dominion over nothingness had struck nightmares into even his fellow agents of Carcari.

His eyes widened in dawning horror.

Santav’s body responded to the bead’s arrival. The ashen hue of his skin began to shed away in flecks, revealing vitality beneath. His weakened form seemed to drink in the power of the anomaly. His golden eyes slowly opened, burning with brilliance and purpose that had been long buried. No longer the Charred, this was something far greater—something far worse.

For in this moment, Ginyumi realized the truth: Santav was an amalgamation of his true name. The one who rebelled against the Prince of Chaos. And by the stories, the one who slew the Monarch. Simply switch two letters.

Vantas, God of the Void.

The Void Lord’s Return Music

“How unfortunate,” Vantas murmured, his golden gaze lazily drifting toward the bead of nothingness hovering before him. Suspended midair by the possessed Morax, he shifted his focus to Ginyumi, his tone as detached as it was menacing. “It seems the Void still has use for me… which is far more unfortunate for you.”

With a subtle wave of invisible will, the bead erupted in a violent burst of concussive nothingness. The shockwave blasted Ginyumi off his feet, sending him spiraling through the air for dozens of yards. Just before his body could crash into the ground, Vantas, with an arc of pure blackness streaking behind him, seized the possessed Morax by the back of his skull. With a maddened grin and maniacal laughter echoing, the Void Lord flung the God of Spears through the air, sending him crashing violently against a jagged cliff face.

“Do you think spears can save you from oblivion? Do you think dreams wait for you at the end?” Vantas’s smile reached his ears as he called to the valley, his golden eyes fixed on the plume of dust and debris. “You and your puppet’s domains were made by mankind. Your divinity lives in mortality alone.”

A trail of black again streaked behind as Vantas leaped, and he landed with a gust of wind that cleared the dust around the possessed Morax. His manic gaze lingered upon him, blood dripping down his torso from the still-open wounds. “I will enjoy this, Ginyumi.” He calmly raised a hand cloaked in a carnivorous darkness. “If my patron calls me to dispose of the waste, the least I can do is savor it.” His finger twitched, and the ravenous void split itself into four to pierce Morax’s limbs to the ground.

Everything happened so fast that Ginyumi didn't have time to react. He was about to put the Charred out of his misery instantly. The next moment he had been flung into the side of the cliff walls, and his limbs were pierced by fragments of the power of the void. Golden blood seeped from the points the fragments were embedded in his skin, and aether dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

Now everything made sense. How he knew so much about him, and why he was traveling with the other gods. He was the bastard that killed the Monarch of Chaos. The one that threw his loyalty away and killed many of the gods that stood at the forefront of Chaos. Everything made sense, and the only thing Ginyumi could do was laugh.

“So, this is what happened to you? After you led the rebellion, you lost yourself and fell into nothing. Only to once again stand in the way of the people you once called comrades.” He continued to laugh uncontrollably as he pulled at the spikes that held him.

“God of the Void. Do you truly think that siding with these gods will get you anywhere? You may have won one battle, but the war is far from over.” Morax’s body was strong, and Ginyumi ripped his arms and legs free from their restraints. Just as five spears cut through the ground once more to try and force Vantas back. Golden blood flowed from Morax’s limbs as he stood up to his full height. “Shall we see who will die first?”

Vantas leaped back out of reach of the spears and slowed, suspended in the air by tethers unseen. “This war was never about sides. Do you really think I betrayed you and the rest of Baldramort’s pups?” The whites of his eyes were swallowed by darkness, his body almost twitching with a wash of energy it hadn't felt in years. “How can I betray a tool or a weapon? You never earned my loyalty. You were never my ‘comrade’. None of you were.”

Tendrils of void licked from his eyes, begging to be unchained. “You were simply…convenient. Nothing more.” His hand calmly cut inward, and a wave of darkness sliced diagonally out from him in an attempt to cut Ginyumi in two.

“I see now that you never were part of the cause. I am guessing you only got close to our lord to find a way to kill him. Well, being used as a tool works both ways. The others used you to eliminate Baldramort from this world. However, the joke is on you. The Lord of Chaos still lives, and he will return to this world. One way or another.” Ginyumi said as he jumped out of the way of the incoming strike.

“Mortals may have formed my power, but that doesn't mean I am inferior to you.” The light surrounding him grew brighter as Ginyumi prepared to unleash Morax's ultimate skill. The air crackled with tension as golden portals materialized around him, their edges glowing like miniature suns. The Void God was a formidable opponent who could not be underestimated. Ginyumi knew this battle demanded nothing less than overwhelming force.

"You might believe yourself invincible, but even you have weaknesses," Ginyumi declared, his grin widening. Within the portals, the glint of countless spearheads became visible, their deadly tips gleaming with divine energy.

Without hesitation, the assault began. Spear after spear rained down from the heavens, a ceaseless onslaught erupting from the portals. The barrage grew ferocious with each passing moment, an unrelenting storm of golden death. Ginyumi stood amidst the chaos, his smile unwavering as he unleashed everything in Morax’s arsenal against the God of the Void.

Oh?

Vantas’s brow rose at Ginyumi’s words, his inquisitive expression gleaming in the golden light from the portals. So the energy he had felt Silvannus radiate earlier was connected to Baldramort. His gaze drifted calmly towards the approaching onslaught of spears, and the darkness in his eyes flared. That means I now have loose ends to clean up…after this.

The maelstrom of supersonic spears slowed to a crawl as everything stilled. The reverberations of their battle halted, rock and water silent as something crept from beyond the veil. Even the air vibrated in anticipation, anxiety, and fear of what moved outside and between its molecules

"You're right," Vantas said, his voice cold and hollow. "I do have weaknesses. But your light isn't one of them.”

The space above Vantas ripped with a harrowing scream.

A rift of pure black opened as the space between spaces expanded, the air pulsing in aftershocks and scattering Morax’s weapons far away. A gaping maw of darkness opened in reality as the Void itself tore its way into and through their world. The air howled as it fought to compress the space again, but the Void would not be denied, and it roared in defiance as it continued to grow behind above Vantas. The darkness contained in his eyelids started to spread across his skin until every inch of his being was consumed by void darker than black, a silhouette of negative space in the shape of a man with two glowing golden irises.

Those golden eyes snapped upon Ginyumi.

The void storm screamed and pulsed behind Vantas, and the weight of folded reality around Morax’s body crushed him to his knees. Spacetime compressed like an accordion and then warped at the edge of the black hurricane, but Vantas’s dark form appeared unaffected as he slowly and deliberately walked toward Ginyumi. Every step closer compounded the forces that radiated and escaped from the storm, sinking the possessed god’s eyes into his skull. For any onlookers, they could only see a swirling mass sphere of blackness, warping the space around the two combatants and howling like a storm of lost souls.

When Vantas was within arm’s reach, he took Morax’s chin with two fingers and effortlessly tilted his face up to meet the two golden discs of his eyes in a sea of black. “If Baldramort has returned, I’ll kill him again. If he lives after that, I'll kill him once more. I’ll keep killing him until I've destroyed divinity itself, and none of this will matter anymore.” The golden eyes widened, and even in his black silhouette, his smile was visible. “If I can do that to Baldramort, what chance do you stand here?”

[RedKayne]

Scene music - https://youtu.be/71k6gx2RwY8?si=i0W3eOMLwco-ibyy


‘A funeral pyre to put theirs to shame…’

Atrophos gifted the Goddess of Death a pitiful smile. At one point, he would have gratefully taken such an end. To light up the night sky and be seen from miles around. His flesh melting until there was nothing but the scraps for the birds left. Dark eyes settled on Messis as he sighed. That ending was not one that he would happily accept any longer. He had hope. He could feel power coursing through his chest again. Even if every single attack on Messis was to be useless. He had to try.

That familiar wooden staff twirled in his hand and came up to clash with the scythe of Messis. Only for a wave of something to crackle through his body. His knuckles went white as he held his staff high. Something had happened. Something that he had not experienced before. Static filled his mind as he tried to concentrate on the task at hand. Pushing Messis back. Gifting Moriteva some precious time. ‘Keep her busy’ Oh. Thanks. I totally can do that. Atrophos thought playfully as he pushed back on Messis’s attack. “You always were so predictable…Everything must end. Does that not also include you, dear?”

With her ire focused solely on Atrophos, Moriteva was forgotten momentarily as the God of Decay began his return assault on Messis. She met his staff with strikes from the broad side of her scythe, repelling the swings of his staff with ease. His question reached her, merely causing her to smile. “Everything ends…when there is naught left to die, I will have served my purpose. That is why we exist…to serve a purpose. And yours…is to feed my unending desire for the end…” She quickly hacked at Atrophos, who managed to escape the tip of her blade narrowly. The look in Messis’ bright blue eyes was one of both murderous intent and a quiet acceptance of fate. She knew what her job was, and she would carry it out to its end, no matter what the outcome at the end of the tunnel might be. She knew her purpose. Her purpose was in her title. She stepped forward, preparing to pin down Atrophos and put a pitiful end to the God of Decay once and for all. One more distraction out of her way.

Atrophos clicked his tongue against his teeth as he managed to stumble just out of the way of the next attack. Gone were the small movements and carefully plotted attacks of his. The static in his skull had his jaw tensing. The Goddess of Death will not stop until his body becomes one with the ash. His movements in the dust kicked it up around them and Atrophos flicked his left hand like one would a whip. Sharp bursts of dust and ash exploded around Messis, grit tearing through skin that quickly repaired itself. No longer was he trying to hurt Messis. No. This was a distraction. Concentrate on him, not the others who were…

As Messis prepared the final blow, a heavy thud redirected her attention. Moriteva landed heaving on the ground in front of both gods, a pained groan coming from the Warden as he felt something in the arm he landed on break.

“Agh…” Moriteva grit his teeth. He couldn’t use what was left of his reserves on himself if he could afford it. Others needed it. Others more important than himself. Instead, he called to the earth below him. Ashen rock rose from the ground, forming around his broken arm and encasing it in a mostly unmoving cast. The pain faded from a searing agony to a dull throb. It was enough for him to get up. Or he would have, if his gaze didn’t land on his other half, staring down at him like a wolf who had just found a wounded target.

Messis seemed a little bit annoyed. “I will need to have a word with Minos…about keeping his hands off my prey…” Messis shrugged. “But it is no matter. He has delivered you to me.”

Minos, the Judge, was quickly approaching, his attention focused on Atrophos. Though he could not see what happened, Moriteva not risking looking away from the Reaper with a bead on his soul, a blue light flared behind him, and a furious and pained snarl from Minos told him something had finally broken their way. But he had more important things to worry about. He rolled out of the way of Messis’ scythe, but was quickly stopped by a foot on his wrist. That foot was quickly used to deliver a kick to his chin, sending the Warden sprawling. Dazed, Moriteva looked up, seeing Messis’ scythe held high. He braced for impact, expecting the sweet sting of metal to tear him asunder.

He waited.

And waited.

Moriteva relaxed his pose nervously, glancing up at Messis. She had lowered her scythe, her gaze now empty and fixated on something to her right. Moriteva raised an eyebrow in confusion, but said nothing, not wishing to break her from her trance. A single sentence escaped her lips, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared in awe.

“The empty one…he returns…”

Empty one…?

Moriteva turned his head to where Messis was staring, only for his jaw to clench. He knew the all-encompassing blackness that greeted his vision as Morax seemed to practically be torn asunder in a hopeless matchup he couldn’t win. The antithesis of life, yet far more empty than death. “Vantas…” When did he get here? Why was he here in the first place? Was he friend or foe? Questions Mori didn’t have time for, and he prayed he would not need to answer.

* * * * * *

As Moriteva landed heavily at Messis’s feet, Atrophos let out another sharp tut. The God of Decay twisted his attention towards the Goddess that called his name only for Atrophos to hit the ash harshly. The dust coating his body as it attempted to rock him to the hard ground. Time seemed to slow as Visana was hit harshly in the chest. He tried to scramble to his feet, only for light to dance through her skin. A gnarled shard of Minos’s claw landed by Atrophos’s hand.

‘Atrophos….I think this one’s judgement is overdue.’

“You are entirely right, my dear.” Atrophos responded as he gripped the claw and hurled it towards Minos. The ash clogged deeply in the strands of Visana’s hair tore free to coat the claw in muck as it managed to wriggle into one of the small gaps in Minos’s chest plate. The God of Decay managed to send a smile to the Goddess of Protection, one that did not sigh from his features as he reared his staff back. Ready to attack.

With a sweep of her wings Visana launched up into the air, sending a ring of displaced ash slashing out from the place where she had stood. She hovered above the battle, wings beating the air, blue light pulsing in ripples from the scar at the centre of her chest.

Minos hissed, his arms clawing at the dust trying to burrow into his carapace. “Come down and fight me, you coward!”

Visana’s eyes met his once more, filled with determination. “I don’t need to fight you, Minos. I only need to protect the world you sought to destroy. I only need to give those who remain the strength to rise.”

She reached one hand down, fingers spread. Curling runes flicker-flashed through the air, touching Atrophos and Moriteva and spiraling up their bodies in a web of glowing wards. Both gods now pulsed with warm blue light.

Minos screeched, his many limbs twisting as they raked the air in fury. “I am the god of judgment, of inevitability. You are nothing!”

Visana smiled, her body remade, her spirit whole. “You are wrong. We are everything.”

She watched as Minos surged towards Atrophos, only to spasm and fall to one knee as the dust took effect. This isn’t a fair fight, and it never was. Minos, the god of judgment, against the quiet, relentless forces of life and decay - forces that could not be controlled, and could not be judged.

Visana turned away, looking down at Messis who still stood immobile, shocked into inaction by the sudden transformation of Santav, Moriteva still lying at her feet. What did they do to you, Requiem? She snatched in her wings and let herself fall, blade turned down to smash the scythe out of the Reaper’s grip.

With Messis seemingly focused on the new arrival, rooted in place, the Warden rose to his feet, turning around to see Atrophos and Visana now engaged with Minos, whose fury seemed to equally rival Messis’ apathy.

Moriteva, banged up yet still standing, offered Minos a smile once again. “How about now? Still insignificant?” He didn’t know how much use he’d be, his life energy drained and his arm stuck in a cast. But he wasn’t about to back down now. If he gave the others an opening, then he could still be useful.

* * * * * *

She expects us to fail, maybe even die.

Minos’s faceless head tilted slightly as Messis’s earlier words reverberated within his hollow skull, gnawing at the edges of his being. The battlefield was shifting against them. Visana had reclaimed her domain's power, Zeyra struggled against Ridstus, and the Charred’s true identity—the slayer of Baldramort—had been laid bare. His chest-maw wheezed and heaved, fighting through the choking ash and clinging dust that surrounded him like a vice.

A retreat is not an option, he thought coldly, his resolve hardening. Failure would not be tolerated—not by his mistress, and certainly not by himself. He knew the cost of failure under her watchful eye. She would not let him live to suffer the shame. Yet even as this truth echoed in his mind, a darker thought threatened to take root: perhaps his master had already set him up for failure, ensuring his defeat regardless of how fiercely he fought. Was this the end for him, a resignation to die like a dog in the dirt?
No. It wasn’t resignation that gripped him—it was fury.

With a sudden, monstrous motion, Minos raised his three remaining clawed hands, jagged and brutal. The flesh of his palms split open with grotesque ease, revealing slavering mouths—additional conduits for his relentless judgment. They snarled, gurgled, and then roared in unison as his power surged.

“For the egregious crime of severing the Hand of Judgment, I take a limb as repayment,” Visana screamed as the skin of her left leg exploded in a violent geyser of Aether, causing her to plummet.

“For the sinful attempt to silence the Voice of Judgment, I take your sight.” Atrophos stumbled backward, the protection rune that marked him flaring in distress as blood burst from his eyes, leaving him blinded and vulnerable.

“For standing against the Will of Judgment, I deem your pain hundredfold.” Moriteva gasped as an oppressive pain crushed upon both of his arms, his protection rune flickered and sputtered as it fought against the spell.

Minos’s chest-maw continued to heave, each strained breath an audible snarl of rage. The words that followed came with a guttural finality, dripping with venom.

“Hurry up and kill your target, Reaper,” he barked at Messis, his tone laced with impatience. “My tolerance for delay is waning.” The God of Judgment’s hollow form trembled with barely contained wrath, his energy bleeding into the battlefield. If Messis faltered in her task, Minos resolved, he would handle her himself—just as before, when she defied his command and slew the God of Imprisonment. This time, he would make her pay.

[RedKayne]

Kayne/Han/Hoef Co-Op

Round 2 Music

Zeyra stepped onto the smoke bomb, triggering it. The dense cloud erupted around her, and the Goddess of Hatred shrieked in frustration, instinctively shielding her eyes as the haze engulfed her. “Damn you! You pathetic machine! You worthless pile of scrap!” she spat venomously, her voice a mix of fury and desperation. She swung her greatsword wildly through the smoke, hoping to strike the elusive God of Industry.

But in her blind rage, she revealed a critical vulnerability—her power to suppress others relied entirely on maintaining a direct line of sight. Cut off from her target, her influence faltered.

“Riddy. She requires line of sight to suppress you. We must abuse her inability to see.”

“Better said than done SP00N. SP00N? Wait, how do I know you?”

“A long explanation about time and our place in it.. But now is not time for light discussions in quantum mechanics, we need to fight. Now.”

“Right... Okay, how do I beat her then??”

“We need to turn this bitch into hide and seek!!”

“Hmm.. That might not be a half bad idea.. Let’s try that.”

“Then suggestion: Create pillars and walls from the environment to obscure her vision.”

“Alright then, SP00N, give me a read out in the surface integrity of this dimension as well as the likelihood of pillar/wall creation!”

“Running the numbers now..”

“Ooh! OOH! WHAT DID I DO BOSS??”

“You...? You sit on standby for when we kill this bitch.”

“BIG BETS”

Ridstus saw that there had been serious changes that even he wasn’t privy to, nor was he going to question it. All that mattered was that he was winning against Zeyra, and he was going to keep winning. As such, feeling a sudden surge of new software being uploaded into his person, he put a thought together. That thought manifested, seamlessly, into his calves becoming stronger boosters as his feet became skates. He closed his chest and activated the boosters. This sent him zooming toward Zeyra, tearing up ground as he moved. Riddy was so surprised by this turn of events that he almost forgot to attack. KNIF3 had to take over in those fleeting seconds.

As such his thoughts seamlessly manifested music that was almost noise if it wasn't for syncopated rhythms and rhymes; vocals included. KNIF3, without a shred of remorse, skated in close to puncture her side with his bare hand. However, that hand became an unsightly drill that was revving and spinning with unhinged ferocity.

The drill tore into Zeyra’s alabaster skin, the sound of shattering glass piercing the air as splinters of her glistening exterior scattered like shards of a broken mirror. The Goddess of Hatred recoiled, her shriek echoing through the battlefield—not in pain, but in pure, undiluted rage.

“You dare defile me!” she snarled, staggering back as her free hand clutched the gaping wound in her crystalline form. Smoke still cloaked the area, blinding her to her enemy’s movements, but Zeyra’s pride refused to let her retreat outright. Instead, she made her defiance known. Lifting her massive greatsword with one arm, she didn’t aim—precision wasn’t necessary for her rage. She hurled the weapon like a spear and it cleaved through the smoke, cutting a vicious path before embedding itself in the ground mere feet from Marette.

Then, in an instant, Zeyra vanished, reappearing beside her blade. The corruption in her aura swirled like a storm, and her crimson eyes flared as she glared down at her quarry. “Mother,” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. “I see your hand in this trickery. It’s just like you to meddle.” the corrupted celestial accused, knowing she side-stepped out of the smoke bomb earlier but still somehow triggered it.

Zeyra’s gaze burned brighter, locking onto Marette. At that moment, the Time Maiden’s powers faltered, her connection to the flow of time suppressed under the weight of Zeyra’s hatred. The Goddess smirked, raising her greatsword with malice gleaming in her expression. “I wish I could savor this more, if only that bitch, Malphas, told me about your imprisonment,” Zeyra spat, her voice cold and deliberate. “But you won’t need much time where you’re going.” With a burst of speed, she charged forward, her corrupted form radiating power as she swung her weapon in a brutal arc, aiming to cleave through her powerless mother.

Marette remained expressionless as her daughter, now wounded, spun out, turning her attention toward the Goddess of Time. The massive blade landed mere feet from Marette’s delicate frame. Her daughter’s words were hardly scathing, she had heard far worse from Zeyra over the millennia. Marette could feel her power obstructed, cut off from her, a familiar feeling given what Petos had done when he drove the dagger through her heart. “Pathetic,” Marette said softly. “You need to rid me of my power to defeat me?” She could only shake her head, her eyes fleeting across her surroundings. Ridstus had created a series of obstacles when he charged forward and landed a blow against the hateful creature. Zeyra was beside her blade, so very close to her.

There would be no time to aid her, and no time to escape the path of her daughter’s rage without injury. Even without the power of time, Marette need only buy more time for Ridstus to regroup and resume his attack. As Zeyra was within a breath of her mother, Marette allowed her form to drop toward the ground, in an attempt to prevent the blade from tearing through the entirety of her body, much as she had done to Aegis.

Before the pain, there was an intense pressure. Marette screamed as the searing pain tore through her body. It was nothing like the pain she felt when the dagger was driven through her chest. The blade sliced through her shoulder and deep into her chest, mere centimeters before her freshly repaired heart. Golden aether flowed freely from her wounds, pouring down her body and onto the ground, soaking the ash that lay beneath Marette’s feet. The Goddess of Time fell to her knees. “Your father… would be so disappointed in you.” Marette could taste the blood in her mouth, she spit it out onto the ground beside her before collapsing.

Zeyra loomed over her weakened mother, a wicked grin twisting her lips despite the blood dripping from her earlier wound. "Save your breath, dearest mother," she sneered, her tone dripping with mockery. "Taunting never was your strong suit." With a cackle, she hefted her greatsword high, the blade gleaming as she prepared to strike. "As for father," she continued coldly, "he's next. Once I'm done with you, I'll hunt him down and finish what I started."

KNIF3 needed time to come back around, and thankfully Time Lady allotted him enough of it to really put the pain to Zeyra. Which, resulted in a sudden conjuration of several small missiles that, upon detonation, leveled a city block. He left them suspended in the air, waiting for the right moment to detonate them upon the enraged goddess. So, he acted on instinct.

He coated his advance by screaming in the same octave as Marette, and kicked the Goddess of Time out of the way to replace her with himself. Once she was clear out of the splash zone, he instantly snapped his fingers. In a simultaneous motion those missiles came down like comets upon their position while he drove hand drills straight into her person in rapid succession. Effectively, making himself a continued distraction while the both of them get splashed in fire and fragmentation.

“We’re built for this right?”

“Correct. The explosive yield will only do cosmetic damage. This body of ours can withstand most mundane explosions.”

“Okay, Cosmetic?? You mean it’s going to hurt my pretty face? But I really like it!”

“We will get you a new one.”

“BUT I REALLY LIKE THIS ONE!”

“We’re doing this… You always do this..”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU TWO!!” He shouted at Zeyra, treating it as a battle cry. And while KNIF3 fought Zeyra, Riddy spoke with SP00N about Marette’s condition.

“What do we got doc??”

“Without breaking concentration, she’s got some time before she croaks. If we take care of Zeyra now, we’ll be able to treat her wounds. Thus, Ridstus.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to need you to take control after this attack. I’ve got a plan that’ll end this fight in one swift move. I’m going to need you to follow my plan to the letter. Think you can do that?”

“Psh, easy. Let’s dance with destiny!”

“Alright. KNIF3, get ready to swap.”

“THE FUCK!? WHY??” He shouted even more, adding unholy obscenities at the end of it.

“I’m not going to elaborate. Just do it when I whistle.”

There was an unsatisfied groan as he lurched forward again to send another volley as the fire and fragmentation engulfed them.

Sparks and fragments of flame erupted in every direction as Zeyra and Ridstus clashed amidst the chaos of missile impacts. "You were always a disgrace to the faction of Freedom, Ridstus!" the Goddess of Hatred roared over the deafening explosions, her greatsword slamming against his spinning drills with furious precision. "Your childish antics, your incessant whining—you drove everyone away!" She swung her blade again, the collision igniting a cascade of sparks.

"I should have ended you back then," she snarled, her voice dripping with venom. "Spared you the torment of this pathetic existence!" Her greatsword locked against the twin drills, forcing a stalemate as her crimson eyes blazed with unrelenting fury. "You were alone then, and you'll die alone now, with no one left to save you," she growled through clenched teeth.

The debris began to settle as the final missile struck, revealing Zeyra’s alabaster skin fractured with cracks, her form appearing deceptively fragile. But the corrupted celestial was far from finished. Her free hand pierced through Ridstus's torso, her fingers coiling tightly around his core—his very heart. "You cannot escape your fate," she hissed, her blackened lips curving into a cruel smile as she prepared to rip it free and deliver the killing blow.

[RedKayne]

Purg/Az Co-Op

Background Music

Visana’s dive became a headlong tumble as pain spread through her. She had only a split-second to look down, to see her lower leg coated in blood as if her skin had simply burst, to see the runic swirls that curled up her thigh glowing blue-hot with pain. She dared not think what might have happened if she had been forced to take the full power of the curse.

End him, Atrophos!

Too late to stop her descent, she crashed into Messis - her blade sparking off the scythe haft and jarring it out of the reaper’s grip, her left leg folding under her the moment it touched the ground. The pain was blinding, but she drove herself up from her knees with her wings alone, swooping around Messis to put herself between the reaper and the pain-paralyzed Mori. She looked into Messis’ burning eyes - once dark, now ice blue. Had Hades’ power overtaken her, like the spearmaster and the stormbringer?

“Requiem!” Visana pleaded as she warded the other goddess back. “If you’re still in there, fight it!”

* * * * * *

Deep in his heart, Moriteva knew he had no business continuing to goad the God of Judgment as he did. Yet he couldn’t help himself. It felt…good to be just a little cocky on the battlefield, even with the odds turned against them. It infuriated his opponent, hopefully opening up their defenses as they fumed that the ever-cool-headed Warden of Life dared to poke the tiniest bit of fun at them during a fight. Unfortunately, Mori had not properly learned the art of banter. Minos seemed to compose himself despite his rage, his arms opening to reveal additional mouths that made the Warden want to retch. He truly was disgusting. Moriteva thought to jam his stone-encased hand in one of them to silence it, but before he could, his judgment was read.

Pain one hundredfold.

Moriteva’s smile was wiped off his face as his wounds, once mere irritants, suddenly erupted into all-encompassing agony. His left arm, a dull throb, now splintered as though it had shattered into a thousand pieces. His right arm, still leaking celestial blood, seared as though it had set entirely alight. His legs, aching from exertion, now crumpled under his weight, as though they were carrying a hundred tons. Moriteva cried out in pain, even as the glowing blue runes that surrounded him did what they could to absorb the pain inflicted on him. It was only thanks to Visana that he didn’t simply vomit from the agony and pass out. Even so, he has left a kneeling, crumpled heap, wanting nothing more than to clutch his arms in a vain attempt to ease their suffering, yet being unable to. Even the slightest movement was a mistake.

In spite of this, Moriteva forced himself to turn around, pivoting on his knees to observe Visana. Minos had ordered Messis to finish the job on him. It seemed he was disinterested in landing the final blow. For now, at least. Messis, for her part, was still staring in Vantas’ direction, the look on her face entranced. Visana, rapidly descending from the air, struck the defenseless reaper, her beloved scythe clattering to the ashen stone. Messis stumbled from the unexpected attack, her vision snapped back to the intrusion on her moment of peace.

“You…” Messis narrowed her eyes, evidently unperturbed by the disarming as Visana crumpled to the ground.

Her cry was one that Messis did not respond to. A desperate plea to Messis-no. That one. Her eyes sparked with fury as the Protector dared use the name that had died in the pits of Tartarus. Messis reached out as Visana’s wings forced her off the ground, gripping onto her remaining good leg.

Visana’s hand reached out in turn to grab Messis’ shoulder, spirals of light flowing down her arm and into the Reaper, seeking to unpick whatever enchantment had shackled her mind.

“Requiem,” she said again, her face flame-gilded by the sword she held at bay in her other hand. “Fight it.”

The runes of protection quested out, but they grasped at nothing because there was no spell holding the Reaper in thrall, no soul left to save. Visana’s soul wilted at the realization.

Messis could smell the blood in the air - her foe was ripe to be put down. She yanked Visana back to her, throwing her to the ground in front of her.

“Do you compare me to the dogs of the red dreamer?” Messis hissed, her voice pure hatred and venom. “I am no puppet. There is no Requiem any longer.” The name filled her with such anger. A name lost to the past. A name she was no longer, and never could be again.

Visana looked up at her, teeth gritted from the pain of her damaged leg. The blue lights winding around her hand dimmed as she redirected her power. “Then I’m sorry.”

The fury in Messis’ eyes did not subside as she reached down, grabbing Visana by the neck and lifting her in a powerful vice grip, leaving her legs to dangle as she tilted her head down to look her in the eye. Visana lunged the star blade at Messis’ chest. Messis’ other hand caught it, gold blood bursting between her fingers as she stopped the thrust dead. Underlit by the cold glow of the blade, her face looked almost demonic.

As Messis gripped tighter, Visana’s skin flared bright, runes of protection fighting a vicious tug of war against the dark force attempting to drain her life energy away. A cruel, wild grin spread on the Reaper’s face. “And now…I send you to him. To the empty one. Embrace….the void.” Messis’ icy blue eyes glowed eerily, dragging Visana’s consciousness away from her…

---

Visana’s eyes opened to the same battlefield as before, yet strangely empty. No cries of the fallen Warden. No thrashing of the enraged Minos. No heavy collisions and explosions of the battling Ridstus and Zeyra. Not even the vast emptiness of Vantas. Visana looked around. She knew this place - the white tunnel, the final light. The cradle with which Requiem enfolded the dying when she finally came for them. She had watched mortals smile as they saw it, a modicum of comfort whenever Atrophos’ power won out over her own yet again. But there was something different about it now - something pitiless and dark.

There was no comfort here. Nothing at all, save Visana. Visana and a voice.

“Do you understand your folly, Protector?” Messis’ voice pierced through Visana’s mind, echoing from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Out of the corner of Visana’s vision, Messis’ figure appeared over the horizon of the ashen plains, her body seemingly massive against the backdrop of the previously barren landscape. And to her left, another appeared. And another.

“All this time you spend focused on everyone else…” A javelin screamed out of midair, piercing through Visana’s left wing and pinning her to the ground, golden aether leaking from the newly sprouted appendage. Another flew in from seemingly nowhere, tearing through the muscle of her calf and stabbing into her left foot. “And yet you never thought for your own safety. Who protects the Protector?” A third javelin was much more direct, driving itself directly through her stomach.

Visana choked out a gasp, her muscles clenched in pain. It felt as real as Minos’ scourging, almost enough to eclipse the dim awareness of heat around her neck as Messis’ grip on her true body began to blister through her protective wards. She focused past it. She had to maintain the connection.

“You’re more right than you know, Reaper,” she said quietly, gold running from her lips as she wrapped her hands around the javelin impaling her stomach. She wanted to use the death goddess’ true name, but Requiem seemed gone. With an effort, Visana raised her eyes to meet those of Messis.

“I never could beat you.” the protector said, mournfully. “Not even once. Anything I ever did was nothing more than a stall.”

As her very essence began to pool with the ash underneath her, a final figure appeared in front of her. Messis, at her usual size, scythe in hand as she smiled warmly at the sight in front of her. She tutted softly.

“A shame. You spoke that useless, dead name…and now you will become just like it. Forgotten and meaningless in the wastelands.” Messis laughed brightly, evidently thoroughly enjoying the torture of her foe. She strode forward, tossing her scythe from hand to hand as she cocked her head. “Be thankful I am delivering you to him…you get the gift that I can never see, can never have for myself…”

“Oh, you might yet.” Visana managed to smile as she felt the wards around her true body’s neck begin to flicker and fail, Messis’ life-draining grip tightening like a noose. She poured the last of her power into its new recipient and hoped that it would be enough. “Like I said, I’ve only ever been able to stall you. So what do you think I’m doing now?”

Just enough protection to hold back Minos’ curse of pain. Just enough strength…to rise.

No. Another voice called out, this one much more familiar. The voice of Moriteva.

“What…?” Messis turned her head, staring up into the cloudless sky. “No…?”

She is not yours to take. I will not allow it! Moriteva’s voice rang out louder than before, and Messis suddenly clutched her head, dropping to the ground. An ear-piercing scream ripped from the Reaper’s mouth; the ground rumbled as the fabric of the world seemed to threaten to tear.

“No! This is…get…out…of…my…head…!”

---

The vision shattered like glass as Messis’ concentration was broken. Moriteva was on his feet, panting but still standing as he stared down Messis, conviction flaring in his gently glowing eyes. The scream from Visana’s vision had carried over as the Reaper continued to wail in agony.

Did you forget so easily? You aren’t the only one who can abuse the other… Moriteva let his thoughts cross their cursed mental link, causing the recipient agonizing pain. Messis’ grip loosened, her life drain forgotten as she fought in vain to drive off the pain of their warped connection. Her flails sent Visana tumbling to the ground as Messis dropped to her knees. The reaper gritted her teeth, the cries of pain lessening as she fumbled around on the ground for her scythe. Visana kicked it further out of her reach.

“I…you…I will not…be felled so easily…”

[Hannelorian]

The Goddess of Time sat on her knees, blankly staring in the direction of Ridstus and her daughter. Golden aether spilled from her wound, the great sword having left its impression upon her delicate flesh. The battle was inconsequential. If her daughter fell to Ridstus, she would grieve the loss of her only child. If her daughter were to be triumphant, Marette would be the next to meet her death, the punishment for breaking her word, her bond, and intervening. There seemed to be little else to do aside from resigning herself to her fate. There was no more Marette could do.

Her eyes closed. The sounds of battle were her only indication of what was happening. Silent tears carved a path through her ash and blood-ridden cheeks. Marette’s breath slowed down as she slowly began to grow light-headed. “You were the best part of me,” Marette spoke softly and to absolutely no one. The power of grief already had a hold of her. “All I ever wanted was you.” A quivering hand rested over Marette’s heart. “I betrayed you. When that was all I longed to protect you from, betrayal, the pain of knowing the truth of your father… and the sins of your mother.” It was almost as though Marette were praying to an unknown force, or perhaps confessing her sins like she had listened to from the mortals. So many confessions.

Now Marette understood them. She understood what led her here, and every mistake she had ever made was replaying in her mind on a loop. A thousand memories a second, bombarding and overwhelming her. “Should I have stayed with him? For your sake?” Marette wondered as her eyes finally opened to what would ultimately prove to be the final moments of the fight. “I loved him. Petos loved me. And together we created something beautiful, the Goddess born of our passion. Born of our love and happiness. It was not he who betrayed you but I, and I shall live the rest of my days, whether they be long or short carrying that burden.”

Marette turned her head to face her. “The truth is your father loved you. He loved you so much. So much. You weren’t like your half-siblings, not to him. But I cast him out for his betrayal. Who was I to ask him to fight his nature? Perhaps I should have accepted it.” The memories of the alternate timeline rushed back, the final kiss she and Petos shared after so many years apart. The horror on his face when he saw what Zeyra had become. The act of love and understanding when he killed her to rob her of her power to do what she could not. The loss of Mori in their party. The feeling of uneasiness that triggered her declaration of love for him. Conflict. True conflict.

[RedKayne]

TheDoc/Shadow Co-Op

The Unmaking

Trying to fight against the power of the Void was causing damage to Morax’s body. However, Ginyumi was still fighting since it did not hurt him. He could care less about the body of his servant. However, he needed to get Morax out of this place. He didn’t need to lose a puppet this strong. Yet the more he fought the Void. The more he realized that it was too late to bring Morax back. He would have to abandon this body to its fate. Yet he would not just leave without bringing something to the God of the Voids' attention. His head was low until Vantas lifted his chin to make him look the god in the eyes. As the Void god spoke a smile formed on Morax’s lips. He waited till the god was finished before speaking.

“Do you truly think you are strong enough to be able to destroy a Monarch so easily?” Ginyumi said with a mocking tone. “You are nothing in comparison to the Monarchs, and Chaos can't be destroyed. No matter how much you might want it to. Chaos is as eternal as the Void. No matter how much you try, Baldramort will return to this world. In fact his most recent vessel has been prepared.” Ginyumi said as he chuckled with delight.

“You will have to eliminate two innocent lives, on this day. Poor Morax will die at your hands without being himself. He is nothing but a puppet, a shell of his former self, but the real Morax still lives in this shell, and for you to win, you will have to kill him.” Ginyumi said in a malicious tone as he wanted to see if Vantas would kill Morax to try and kill the Dreamer.

Vantas paused, his irises of gold studying Morax’s eyes. “Maybe Morax should've considered that before he let you take his strings.”

His hand snapped around Morax’s jaw, his skin burning where Vantas’s fingers made contact. The Void surged through his grip, draining Morax’s divinity and strength from his body. Then he lifted the god by his head, the weight of the compressing reality compounding on Morax with every inch. Slowly, Vantas raised Morax towards the Void rift, the sheer weight of time-space pushing the spear god’s eyes deeper in his sockets.

As Morax’s face approached the storm, it started to pull. Like a saw through metal, sparks started to fly as the skin on his cheek was sheered, and then it became a mix of golden aether, tissue, and bone as he was flayed by his proximity to the hyper-warped reality at the edge of the storm. Vantas held Morax’s face against the Void like a grindstone, the golden discs of his eyes observing. “Morax, I’ll grant you the death your master denies when you’ve had enough. When the pain is too much to bear, return to your flesh and perish, free from your shackles.”

Ginyumi didn't say anything to the God of the Void. It was obvious that the ruthlessness that he had been known for was not stated by the fact he was going to be killing someone innocent in all of this. A large smile formed on the dream master's lips as he was grabbed by the face. The searing pain that should have been hurting him didn't. This was not his body so pain was not something he would personally feel. Though even he could feel the pull on his divinity. He didn't have a lot of time before he would have to abandon this body. A chuckle left his lips as he was lifted towards the nothingness that surrounded them.

“You are as ruthless as ever. Enjoy the bloodshed. For soon the Chaos lord will return, and you will be in pain.” Ginyumi exclaimed as the face of Morax made contact with the void, and his face was being shredded by the power of the god standing before him. He didn't scream, he only laughed. But then that laughter suddenly stopped - the Dreamer felt something. The pain that he shouldn't feel, was beginning to seep in. As if the Void was traversing across space and time itself to consume him.

Ginyumi was in Morax’s mind in his dream form, and he knew he needed to leave. He would need to break all connections with Morax. The power of the Void had even invaded the dream in the form of black tendrils and was trying to attack him. For the first time in a long time, the Dreamer felt fear creeping in. He would have never imagined this god's power could even invade this area. As the black tendrils attacked him by trying to wrap themselves around his form, Ginyumi had to dodge them; he didn't know what would happen if they got their hands on him.

He needed to leave now. A door appeared behind him, and he quickly opened it. However, one of the tendrils wrapped around his ankle as he exited the door. He could feel the tendril try to drag him back into Morax’s dream. However, Ginyumi had another plan. He materialized a sword and used it to cut off his foot. He couldn't allow this thing to follow him. With that done, he disappeared completely from Morax’s mind, freeing the old god from his control.

In this moment a scream broke out of Morax, as all the damage he had received hit his nervous system at once. This shock sent his body into convulsions.

Vantas watched carefully as the ravenous Void seized upon Ginyumi’s immaterial form, and while the god escaped he left a piece of him behind for the Void to consume. Something for us to hunt him with, should he continue being a nuisance. The incorporeal limb vanished in a well of darkness.

His golden eyes snapped to the body at the sound of its screams. “So you’ve returned to your senses, Morax. Very well.”

He released Morax’s jaw, but as Morax fell Vantas’s hand snapped around his mangled face. With a steady, deep inhale from his diaphragm, the gravitational nightmare swirling above siphoned into the Void Lord's pitch-black body, which started to shudder with writhing after-images of his silhouette. Then, with a quick exhale, the Void exploded into Morax’s eyes and blew through the back of his head in an enormous flare. Darkness cascaded out in a violent roar and dissipated.

When it finished surging through, Vantas dropped the charred husk that was Morax. The darkness coating his skin retreated to his eyes, which gently reverted to his normal irises of gold. The charred corpse slowly unraveled, as if its divine essence was being completely unmade until there was nothing more. “As promised, Morax.”

[RedKayne]

Kayne/Hoef/Han Co-Op

“Zeyra... step away!” Her body froze mid-motion, her crimson eyes widening in shock as an overwhelming force—the Divine Authority—gripped her. “N-not possible,” she stammered, her fingers reluctantly releasing Ridstus’s core as she stumbled backward. Straining against the invisible power, she craned, her gaze locking onto the dying Aegis. His crumpled body lay a short distance away, his expression filled with sorrow, his sad eyes meeting hers.

“I’m... sorry,” the God of Kings and Rulership murmured, his voice barely audible. With a resigned sigh, he closed his eyes, a faint, peaceful smile lingering.

Zeyra’s features twisted into pure hatred. “Damn you!” she spat, her voice venomous as she whipped around to charge at Ridstus once more. But the Ruler’s Divine Authority had done its job, granting Ridstus the precious seconds he desperately needed.

“SORRY KITTY KAT, IT’S TIME TO GO NIGHT NIGHT!!!” Riddy, now back in control, cackled like a maniac as he stepped in and activated his reactor. But instead of detonating himself, he was going to charge himself up with as much energy as his body could muster. Everything, from his head down to his toes, dumped steam. So much of it hit the ground with anger that it heated the stone around him. “UNLOCKING EVERYTHING. ALRIGHT SPOOOOOON. NNNNNNNOOOOWWWWW IIISSSSSS YYYOOOUUUURRRR CHHHAAAANNNCCCEEEE!!!”

What happened next was fast and succinct.

Ridstus achieved Overdrive form far easier than before, and with it he superheated his hands. They became pikes at that for which he took a step forward and propelled himself at her. The rockets within his legs kicked in, overclocking. And they exerted so much fire that it melted the ground right behind the engines. This propelled the twink faster, moving at speeds almost imperceptible to the eye, he became a spinning, human, rocket pike whose only mission was to pierce straight through Zeyra.

“Really...? You pulled me from the ass whooping of a LIFETIME FOR A HUMAN PIKE ATTACK!?”

“Yes. I took into account all possibilities, and measured how he fights with his own creativity. Ranged weapons can only do so much. So to ensure that your target STAYS dead...”

Breaking up dirt, rock, and whatever else was in the direct path, Ridstus lost his clothes and even tore skin as body superheated beyond recognition. The air around him as he moved filled with steam and debris as he closed the distance.

“You have to get up close and personal..”

“...Well I could’ve done that, why did you have me switch? I could’ve done what Rid-dick is doing tens of times over!!”

Riddy’s aim was going to be Zeyra’s mid-section. Although, he was more relying on SP00N’s navigation in these final moments. All the while, drowning out their conversation.

“The reason why is because of what’s going to happen next. If my calculations are correct, then this is a guaranteed kill.”

Literally moments before contact, Ridstus let out a battle screech that was amplified tenfold. “FUCCCKKINNNN DDDDIIEEEEE AAAALLLRRREEEADDDYYYY!!!”

Zeyra’s crimson eyes narrowed, her glass-like skin shimmering under the violent heat of Ridstus’ charging Overdrive form. Cracks began to web across her translucent surface, the heat baring more stress upon her crystalline form. She shrieked as she swung her greatsword against Ridstus, “You’re too slow for me, you lil shi-”

Ridstus closed the distance in a blinding instant. The ground beneath his trajectory erupted, molten rock and searing steam marking the path of his propulsion. The cacophony of his battle cry tore through the air, drowning out her words and everything.

Ridstus, now little more than a superheated blur of fire and fury, collided with her midsection. His molten, pike-like hands pierced through her glassy form with an ear-splitting shatter, fragments of her translucent body erupting in all directions like shards from a broken mirror. Zeyra’s mouth opened in a silent scream as cracks spread across her form, fracturing her entirely. Her greatsword fell to the ground, her hands reaching in a vain attempt to cover her open wound as her body continued to deteriorate.

The red light in Zeyra's corrupted eyes dimmed, leaving behind two lifeless black beads that gazed up at her mother. Her voice, hoarse and fractured, escaped her lips as her crystalline skin splintered further, shards cascading softly to the ground. “Mother…” she rasped, last words trembling with bitterness. “I’ve always hated you.”

But Marette saw something else—something beyond the hatred, the corruption. In her eyes, she glimpsed Zeyra as she once was: the radiant Goddess of Passion, her beauty vibrant, her life brimming with energy and purpose. A faint, melancholy smile formed on Zeyra’s lips, a fleeting echo of the daughter Marette had loved.

Then, in the span of a heartbeat, the vision shifted. Marette saw a child—a young, wide-eyed Zeyra, untainted and full of wonder. Her small hands reached upward, her innocent voice filled with joy and love. “Mommy,” the child’s voice rang out, clear as a bell. “I love you!” The child shattered, the sound of breaking glass filling the air. The daughter’s essence was reduced to a pile of glass and dust.

[RedKayne]

Kayne/Purg/Az/Scottie Co-Op

The Final Judgment

Knuckles strained against greying skin as Atrophos sent his dust further into Minos’s body. Tearing through flesh and corroding through tendons. Warmth passed over Atrophos as Visana cast something, a light blue tickled against his skin and he knew that he was protected. ‘You are nothing’ Something itched in the back of his skull. Those exact words whispered from his dry lips as the ground seemed to swallow him and welcome him to the rocking sea of nothingness.

A faceless voice slithered through his bones. Rise. It felt like an almost fraught plea. Atrophos twisted his gaze towards Visana and then Mori, the words did not come from their lips. Perhaps Minos’s judgement had finally cracked the mind of the God of Decay. A haze flooded his thoughts as Minos’ claws uncurled to reveal further mouths to spout his hatred. Judgement. The end. Golden blood spilled with ease and Visana’s scream tore through Atrophos. One stumbling step towards the Goddess of Protection was all that he managed before his judgement fell upon him.

‘I take your sight.’

Pain shredded through his skull, focusing on his pupils. His power was trying to burn through Atrophos’s eyes but the rune from Visana protected them. Blood still flooded around his pupils, and he blinked rapidly. Every blink did little to clear his vision. Without his sight, he was worthless. He could potentially surge his dust further into Minos. He could try to blindly flail at the God of Judgement and hope that he did not harm his comrades.

Atrophos felt his body weight lean harshly on his staff. He could crumble here. Try to protect the others through some vague attempt to pick up the ash that lay under their feet. “No” Her voice was clearer, crowding over the pain and ringing like a pristine church bell. “I did not bring you back from the dead… for you to die like this.” The God of Decay twisted his gaze towards the barked words from Minos. He was closer than expected. He had not moved, he was where Atrophos had last attacked him.

“Finish him.”

The command felt like it sparked something within his chest. Something slithering around his ribs and searing up his throat. He was the God of Decay. That old man… the one that stumbled with flesh dripping from his bones like fresh honey…he who hid on the outskirts out of fear of falling. Not anymore. He had leveled cities. He had decimated whole countries…. civilization crumbled under his touch….and he was the final step before death. Judgement could not defeat decay. Not today.

The God of Decay reared back his staff as he strode two steps confidently forward. The staff then drove to the ground, tearing easily through flesh and bone to embed into the ashy surface underneath Minos’s left hoof. “Minos. God of Judgment. For the crime of bringing chaos to Averas….I find you guilty.” Atrophos’s hand wormed towards that open maw with razor-sharp teeth that spat words of hatred. “I deem this your final breath.”

The teeth did not brush his hand, the enamel peeling back at a rapid rate. With his touch, Atrophos’s power was no longer hindered. As blood pooled over his pupils, something dark swirled in the golden like a river of ash. Shoving his hand deep within the open maw, Atrophos’s fingers blindly grappled for something. Only when his dirty fingernails tore into the fleshy voice box did the God of Decay violently wrench his hand back. Flesh turned corrupted and black under his touch, bone shuddered to dust and breath stilled. Decay could be slow, tumbling over years and worming into flesh….yet it could be immediate, demanding payment in bloody flesh and choked breath. Organs failed, tendons snapped, rotten marrow oozed from broken bones and decay ate Minos from the inside out. The God of Decay held the voice box of Minos in his grip and with barely a twitch of his fingers, the organ was gone. Only ashes on the gentle breeze.

“Exquisite work, my dear Atrophos,” her voice purred, dark and ethereal, dripping with unrestrained delight.

* * * * * *

Moriteva shook his head. He disliked torture, but it seemed Messis responded to nothing less. It was pitiful, but she would have done the same to him in a heartbeat had she thought of it. He clenched his one good hand, summoning what strength he had left. He could hear the desperation of Minos grow weaker; it sounded as though Atrophos was handling the contest behind them easily.

“Visana, are you alri-” Moriteva attempted to ask before a piercing scream echoed across the battlefield to his ears. Moriteva stopped cold in his tracks. “No. No, no…” He turned back, frantically scanning the battlefield for its source. As his eyes locked on her wounds, Moriteva’s blood chilled in his veins. “No, no, no, no, NO!” He broke into a run, energy flaring through exhausted muscles as they ignored the pain, ignoring every sign that he should stop and drop to the ground.

Marette…no, you can’t, I won’t LET you!...

The God of Judgment thrashed in vain, his three arms flailing as the palm-maws snapped and clawed in desperation. Yet every strike disintegrated upon contact, turning to ash that joined the endless expanse of Ashen Falls. His divine essence unraveled, cascading outward from his torso until nothing remained—a judgment rendered, absolute, and irrevocable.

A chilling silence engulfed the battlefield, broken only by a low, guttural chuckle. The sound, disembodied and otherworldly, reverberated with malevolent finality. “For disrupting the Scales of Judgment,” Minos’s ethereal voice intoned, legion-like and unbound by mortal form, “Let my Final Judgment be heard. The Scales collapse, and so too shall the world.”

The earth groaned in protest. A deep rumble surged beneath the battlefield, erupting into a violent quake. Ash poured like a suffocating tide from the falls, veiling all in choking gray. The ground heaved and split, jagged fractures radiating outward like veins of doom. Above, massive boulders broke free, crashing down with deafening force and scattering debris in chaotic sprays.

The portal to Averas flickered, its steady glow faltering as the fabric of reality warped around it. Energy surged and waned, threatening to extinguish entirely. The battlefield descended into chaos, a crumbling tableau of divine wrath and cosmic upheaval—a testament to the catastrophic cost of a judgment undone.

“Atrophos!” Visana shouted, Messis and her scythe forgotten now as she fanned her wings and skimmed across the heaving ground to fulfill her true mandate. She caught the Perisher by the hand and lifted him into the air as boulders and stalactites crashed around them. “We need to get the others to the portal before it breaks!”

[RedKayne]

Kayne/Shadow Co-Op

Against the Clock

Vinhar’s words rang true. The dagger inside of him had changed. It was almost as if his child didn’t recognize him. It was not abnormal of one of them not to talk to him, but it was another story for them to hurt him without any remorse. Has someone found a way to change his children? It was not a thought he had ever visited since it had never happened before. He wanted to ask about what Vihar meant, but there was no time. Seeing Silvannus out of the corner of his eye. The Chaotic energy around him was growing stronger.

Reaching down he grabbed the dagger and pulled the blade out of his abdomen. Looking down at the blade he felt a twinge of sadness that the weapon had been abused. He set the dagger on a ledge next to him and spared a look over at Silvannus. His gaze returned to the god of storms. His eyes are full of determination to finish this. He opened another portal bringing out a sleeve of throwing daggers. There were seven of the blades, and each was different from the other.

These blades are the most dangerous for the person who is using them. Each of the blades requires a sacrifice to be paid to use them. Five of the knives will claim the senses of the person as a payment. Two of the blades will take something precious from the user. The blades that kill the senses eventually return the payment. However, the two that take something precious never return what they took. Looking at the weapons a shiver ran down his spine. He had only used the five before. He didn't know what the other two would take. He must finish this fight without using the final two blades.

Pulling the first of the knives out of its sheath it was completely black. However, the blade was colored red. Taking the knife he turned the blade on himself stabbing it into his bleeding abdomen. Flames surrounded the blade as it not only seared the wound shut but also burned Lunae's hand in the process. Cringing and grinding his teeth in pain to keep himself from screaming he then pulled the knife out and did the same thing to his mutilated shoulder. However, this time Lunae didn’t react to the flames as they seared the wound shut. In fact every ounce of pain he felt had disappeared.

Once he was done he placed the knife back in the sheath and then pulled a second knife. The blade was light blue. His attention turned to Vihar now that he was ready. The God of Storms looked at Lunae with a smug smile on his face as he pointed to Silvannus. “His time is almost up,” Vihar said as he took a step forward. However, he stopped when he saw a small smile on Lunae’s face. He didn't know what the god was up to, but he seemed to be a little more confident.

“Silvannus thought of you like a brother. He loved you in his own way, but you wanted more. However, you lost your chance, and now you think he should suffer for it. Well, I won't let him fall to that disgusting power his Uncle taught him to use. He will be sad to find out you have changed so much. The path you have chosen is not going to lead you to answers. It is only going to lead to your destruction.” Lunae said as he was going to end this. He knew Silvannus would be sad, but Vihar needed to be stopped. If he didn’t he would never be able to save Silvannus. He will deal with the fallout later. If there was a later.

The tiny blades that danced around him shuttered at the next mental command. They shot forward to encircle Vihar. Though the god of Storms was expecting it, they moved faster than he could, and this time he was surrounded by blades that were leaving thin lacerations every time they kissed his skin. Lunae walked towards Vihar as he tried to blow the little blades with his wind. However, they were fast and returned to him in an instant continuing their onslaught. When Lunae was close enough he stabbed the blade into Vihar’s shoulder, and ice shot out of his arm. The god screamed as he decided to kick Lunae in the abdomen. Adding his ability to control wind to the kick this sent Lunae once more flying backward hitting the wall of the cave hard. This caused Lunae to cough up some blood, but he was unable to taste the blood.

Picking himself back up he began to walk towards Vihar once more. The God of Storms was beginning to get angry at the situation. He didn't know how Lunae was suddenly unable to be affected by his attacks. Having multiple lacerations and now no use of his arm like he did to Lunae he would need to end this quickly. However, something happened that he never expected. He heard Ginyumi’s voice.

“Leave now!”

“I haven’t completed my mission.”

“You have no choice. The Charred was not just a weakling. He was someone that is a pain in the ass. You need to leave now. Before he sets his eyes on you.”

“But…”

“I will not hear anything more. Leave now, or I will force you.”

“... As you wish.”

Vihar had a sour look on his face as he looked over to the god of the Forge. He pulled a special necklace from under his shirt. It was shaped like a swallow with green gems for eyes. He closed his eyes and ignored the thin blades.

“You will die by my hands. Just you wait!” Vihar said as he opened his eyes and the wind picked up around him. Forming a tornado that scattered all of the blades. A flash of green light followed. The tornado vanished and so did Vihar.

Lunae cursed under his breath as the God of Storms disappeared. He placed the throwing knife back into the sheath, as he turned to face Silvannus. Using these throwing knives cost him dearly. The fire blade burns all of his nerve endings. So he no longer feels anything. Not pain nor pleasure. The blue dagger kills off his sense of taste.

Now he didn’t have any time left. He needed to return what belonged to Silvannus. He opened a portal once more, placing the throwing knives back where they belonged. He looked as if he was fiddling with something. He was removing the seal he had on the container he placed the weapon in. Once he was done he pulled out the staff. It was covered in a royal purple sash with golden flowers embroidered into the fabric. Time was of the essence, and he made his way over to Silvannus.

---

The fight was over. Morax had been utterly unmade by the Void, his form consumed before the maw of darkness receded into nothingness. Ash swirled around the victor, caught in the unnatural stillness that followed annihilation. But Vantas's work was far from finished. Now, where is Silvannus?

Vantas’s golden eyes swept across the battlefield. The tide shifted in his group’s favor against their assailants. The Goddess of Hatred staggered, her strength ebbing. The God of Storm was ensnared in a relentless whirlwind of blades, his resistance faltering. The God of Judgment clutched the remains of his arm, now nothing more than a mangled ruin. And then, Vantas saw him—a motionless celestial, crumpled on the ground a few hundred feet away. Silvannus.

Nearby, the Forger was finishing his battle. The Storm managed to retreat, slipping from the fray before Vantas could intervene. Another of Ginyumi’s minions, gone before the Void could claim yet another piece of the Dreamer’s arsenal. No matter. Vantas had other priorities. A door of black nothingness materialized before him, its edges rippling like the surface of disturbed water. The Void Lord stepped through it, defying the very fabric of physics. In an instant, he closed the distance, emerging between Silvannus and Lunae.

He regarded the scene with quiet intensity: the wounded Forge God clutching a conjured staff. Vantas remained still, hands buried in his pockets, as an oppressive silence fell over the battlefield. “There isn’t much time left,” he said, his voice calm but laced with authority. His head tilted slightly toward the Arcana deity, black smoke curling from his skin like restless shadows. “Assist him. Ensure Baldramort doesn’t win. But I’ll warn you…” His tone dropped, the edge in his words unmistakable. “If Silvannus fails, if I even sense his defeat…”

Vantas’s golden gaze bore into Lunae, unyielding and cold. “I will let the Void consume him. I will not risk Baldramort’s revival.” Before Lunae could respond, the air thickened. A sudden stillness descended, unnatural and foreboding before the Minos’s Final Judgment rang out—a deafening, cosmic resonance that shook the ground violently. Schisms split the earth, fissures spreading toward the three of them as the landscape buckled under the force.

Vantas glanced at the widening cracks, his expression unmoved. “Oh, look,” he said dryly, his eyes locking back onto Lunae. “Another reason to hurry up.”

Lunae froze the moment the lord of the Void stepped inbetween him and Silvannus. Being someone that once followed Chaos he knew exactly who this was and the fact that he stood no chance against him. He would have never thought Vantas would show up. Was he on their side, or was he here to stop them? That was a question he didn’t know the answer to. So, he closed his eyes knowing that he stood no chance against this god. No matter how hard he tried, or what shape he was in. However, what happened next shocked him.

Opening his eyes he looked the god of the Void in the eyes, and he spoke of him saving Silvannus. Along with a warning if he failed. He had no idea what Vantas was saying about Baldramort but Lunae knew that this was going to be his only chance to save Silvannus.

“I will free him from the Chaos. One way or another. You have my word, Lord of the Void.” Lunae said as he bowed his head slightly. Then the ground began to shake as deep crevasse started to form on the cave floor. He was not going to let anything happen to Silvannus. Taking the earth splitting as a sign he moved to Silvannus' side, and unwrapped the staff.

“You don't owe me anything but could you do me one favor? Can you keep Silvannus' memories sealed? I don't want him to remember me. He should live a happy life. Not tied to the past.” Lunae knew he would not receive an answer, he just wanted Silvannus to be happy. Since he was going into this blind, he wasn't in good shape to begin with.

Leaving it at that he placed the staff in the hands of Silvannus. However, what happened next startled Lunae. He began to feel light-headed and his vision began to blur. Shaking his head he figured it was because his adrenalin was ebbing. However, the moment that thought crossed his mind the lights went out, and he collapsed to the ground next to Silvannus.

The former Charred remained silent, disregarding the Forge God's request entirely. His piercing, golden eyes observed as Lunae crumpled beside her lover, their hands intertwined around the staff. Without a word, Vantas leaned back, a chair of dark, formless void materializing beneath him, cradling his weight effortlessly as the world around him fell apart. Raising his right hand, he made a deliberate slamming motion, as though striking the ground with the butt of an invisible staff. In response, an obsidian spear emerged, its surface gleaming with an unnatural darkness. Vantas’s expression remained inscrutable, his cold, golden gaze fixed on Silvannus’s body as tendrils of black smoke continued to waft from it. He sat in silent judgment, a spectator to the scene unfolding before him.

[RedKayne]

Kayne/Shadow/Rise Co-Op

The Prince of Chaos

There was pain, so much pain. Every fiber of his being twisted and contorted in response to the essence that attempted to consume him. His screams of agony did nothing to bring peace. His body grew tired of the torture and his once black silken hair began to drain of color slowly. Twitching and convulsing on the ground before his uncle who he had esteemed on a pedestal, only for it to shatter, brought him to the realization that he had no one. No one would come to his aid. No one would save him. No one cared about him. No one loved him the way he should be loved. All he ever wanted was to love and be loved. He never wanted to be anyone’s heir. He never wanted to be anything other than Silvannus, the God of Arcana. He only wished to live up to the potential his grandfather, the great Suriyel encouraged him to be. Now, all of those feelings would end. All of his determination to be something greater would crumble into nothingness.

“I…. am sorry Selrina….I am sorry… I let you down….,” Silvannus groaned out in between the waves of pain.

“Lunae….. I love you.”

When he regained his senses Lunae was surrounded by a thick darkness that he couldn't see. However, when he squeezed his hand he felt, he was holding something because his hand refused to close all the way. He was about to try and figure out what he was holding but the sounds of screaming reached his ears. He was not sure where he was, but where there was sound there was life. So, he ran in the direction of the sound. Not realizing that he shouldn't be able to run with his body in the shape it was in.

Lunae continued to run towards the screams. It didn’t take him too long to realize that his wounds were no longer ailing him. He figured this was either one of two places. This was a spirit plane, or this was the inner world of Silvannus, and he was not in his physical body either way. Though the effects of the throwing daggers would still be in effect here.

Suddenly the screaming became louder, and he ran into an invisible wall. Lunae gently touched the wall, but nothing happened. That was until the staff in his hand glowed softly and allowed him entry. What greeted him in that instant was Silvannus on the ground writhing in pain, and the God of Chaos sitting on a throne watching as his nephew writhed. Lunae was about to move when Silvannus began to speak to Selrina, asking for her to forgive him. What was said next struck Lunae hard.

After he had finally decided that Silvannus would be better off without him. He goes and remembers him now of all times. Tears fell from his eyes as he was torn. Torn between love and what he thought was right. Though, he was a selfish God till the end. He had only been thinking of himself this whole time. He never thought about how Silvannus would feel. His emotions took over and he ran over to his love. He placed the staff on the ground between them as he placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I love you too. Don’t let the chaos win. You are stronger than it.” Lunae said in a caring but sad voice as he turned to face the Monarch of Chaos Baldramort. The God sitting on the throne was someone he had seen many times when he was aligned with Chaos. “All Silvannus wanted was family, and you do this to him? Why?!” Lunae demanded as tears still fell from his eyes.

The Prince of Chaos simply sat on his throne and appeared bored in this chaotic maelstrom while his nephew writhed in agony as the inner chaos continued consuming him from the inside out. However, he was quite surprised when the Forge God made an appearance in this realm, and his black eyes simply narrowed as Lunae intruded on his business. Silvannus’s lover demanded an explanation, demanded a reasoning.

Baldramort simply smiled.

“Ah yes, he only wants family, no matter the cost. Shall I bring you through a trip of memory lane?” The Prince snapped his fingers, and beyond the veil, colors and clouds shifted until it showed the image of Malphas at her tower’s throne, along with Silv. A memory.

She lifted her goblet, taking another slow sip before setting it down with a faint clink. "For me to consider assisting in awakening your precious Selrina," she drawled, savoring the name, "I'll require a particular ingredient. Her blood, to be exact. If you're willing to offer such a thing," Malphas continued, her voice laced with a devilish allure, "we might just find a way to rouse her from her dreamless sleep." Her eyes glinted with a playful malevolence, knowing all too well the gravity of her request and the implications it carried.

"The blood of a Monarch. Do you understand what it is you are asking of me? Do you know what one can..." Silvannus paused as he noticed Malphas' malevolent glint in her eyes. This was a game to her. She knew all too well what it would mean. He knew all too well what could happen, but was he willing to do what she asked?

Silvannus matched Malphas' with a malevolent smirk.

"Malphas, you will have what you seek. You will be the most powerful. As great and powerful as Luthious is, he is not beyond death. You will have your chance to fulfill your desire, to stand over him and deliver your victorious speech, and in return, you shall wake her, my lady, My Selrina, but be warned... there is always a price, and I hope when payment is required, you are ready."

The Duchess only chuckled at the Arcane God's warning: "And we both know there is a price to pay for betraying your fellow gods and goddesses. Let us hope you will be prepared for that day, too."

“In case you have forgotten, Silvannus betrayed you and his closest friends. In a desperately selfish attempt to save Selrina. He is so desperate, that he is willing to give Selrina’s blood to the Duchess. Do you know what kind of powers Malphas could hold over your precious Maiden of Balance?” Baldramort questioned, clearly enjoying himself as Silvannus continued screaming in pain, barely conscious to overhear this conversation. “If I were you, little Lunae, I would depart this realm while you still can. Before your former lover becomes the death of you.”

Lunae could only watch the scan play out as Silvannus spoke to Malphas about freeing Selrina. It shocked him to see the look on Silvannus' face. He looked so different than he had ever looked. He looked as if he was the same as the god sitting on the throne. He seemed so different than he remembered. Lunae looked behind him as Silvannus was suffering. He signed as he turned back to the God of Chaos.

“No God is perfect. No God makes the right decisions all the time. Especially when their loved ones are in danger or need help.” Lunae said as he stood up raising his hands to the side as he took his foot and pushed the staff closer to its master.

“No matter the consequences. Even if I perish, I will not let you get your way again. I didn't fight to keep him away from you. I shouldn’t have let him be with you alone. I will not make the same mistake again. Now let him go!”

A spear of primordial darkness pierced into Lunae’s abdomen, his Aether splattering onto the jagged stone and shimmering glass. The spear retracted back into Baldramort’s open palm as he simply shrugged. “Perish then,” he simply stated with finality.