This is Rated M for violence, blood, gore, language, nudity, sexual content, and contradiction of religious beliefs that might be considered blasphemy outside of creative context
The Throne of Gods: Memories of Divinity
Epilogue from the First Chapter: Moving Forward
"And so, we must move forward and pave a new destiny for all. This is only just the end of the beginning and we have much more work to do. There is no time to become complacent because everyone must answer the call to arms... War is coming, but we will be ready."
Luthious gripped the rail tightly, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. His facial expression grew even more stern but his gaze remained fixed on the majestic city.
"Be ready, Morgana, for we have an intruder."
Morgana's eyes widened with surprise and she flinched at the sound of someone clapping loudly right behind her. The Goddess of Truth quickly turned around, summoning her sun-spear in a flash of light. Despite Morgana's brave warrior spirit, she was caught off guard by the identity of the intruder and fear crept into her core.
"Malphas." she breathed out and faced the Duchess of Pain as she approached both Morgana and Luthious, still clapping obnoxiously.
"Well done, well done, brother," Malphas whistled loudly and giggled briefly before halting her movement. She stopped clapping and stood only a couple of short feet away from the two members of the Order faction. "That was such a beautiful speech. I wish I was around more often to hear your amazing monologues," the Duchess mocked.
"How dare you?!" Morgana spat venomously as anger filled her eyes like an exploding fire. "How dare you trespass his most holy sanctum with your filth?" She raised her spear and pointed it directly at Malphas's face, the piercing end of the spear only a few inches away from the Monarch's red eye.
"Oh, I dare," Malphas's smile widened with glee, apparently enjoying herself after seeing Morgana's reaction to her sudden appearance. "It wasn't that hard to get past all those holy knights either. It's like child's play with my illusions," she cackled as her crimson gaze gleamed with delight.
"Malphas," Luthious's voice raised sternly and he still hadn't turned around to face his devious sister. "What do you want?" his voice demanded.
"What, can't I get a hug from my dear ole' brother?" The Duchess spread her arms in a mocking manner. "I decided to drop by and discuss a couple of family matters with you. I heard that Baldy croaked, which is a terrible shame. I'm gonna miss his gloomy demeanor and sense of humor. By the way, Selrina is also a-okay! I watched her little pets battle one of those ugly gray creatures and she managed to kill that thingy, complete the ritual, and survive! Utterly amazing!"
Morgana's grip on her spear tightened, especially since the Duchess acted like this was all a game to her. She was half-tempted to charge and thrust her spear into that Monarch's black heart but the voice of her lord stopped her.
"Morgana, please leave us," Luthious ordered aloud before finally turning around and facing his younger sister directly. For the first time in a long time, Morgana noticed that Luthious's brilliant blue eyes were cold as ice.
"M-my lord?" she questioned him, wondering why Luthious wanted to be left alone with the witch. Even though the Noble was known to be the strongest Monarch, she still worried for his safety with the likes of Malphas around.
"Please leave us," Luthious repeated once more but his voice remained patient with her.
Morgana hung her head lightly and she nodded. "Yes, my lord," she quickly bowed before leaving his presence, passing by the Duchess and giving her a quick glare as she left the balcony.
Both Monarchs faced each other silently at first and the tension between them grew exponentially.
"Malphas, what do you want?" Luthious repeated his question one final time, his voice completely stoic yet stern. His tolerance for his immature and devious sister was completely different compared to his faithful companions.
Malphas only smiled at first, taking her time to answer before finally speaking up.
"Isn't it obvious, Luthious? I want the same thing that you want, brother. I want to claim the Throne of Gods."
Prologue: Demise of Divinity
One Year Later...
Malphas, the Duchess of Pain, stood at the center of the blazing ring, surrounded by a swirling vortex of fire and brimstone. The scorching heat licked at her leather-clad form, and the pungent scent of sulfur filled the air. Flames crackled and danced, casting flickering shadows across her face as she held a wickedly curved black obsidian blade in her right hand. Her crimson-red gaze fixated on the kneeling figure before her, Luthious.
Luthious, once a radiant noble, now knelt on the scorched ground, his once glorious white angelic wings reduced to charred remnants. Deep gashes marred his once pristine upper torso, and blood trickled from his lips as he gasped for breath, his strength waning. The brilliance that usually radiated from Luthious had dimmed, and his bright-blue eyes, filled with pain and desperation, met the piercing gaze of his younger sister.
"Malphas, please," Luthious pleaded, his voice strained, "You must understand. Killing me won't bring you any closer to the Throne."
A bitter scoff escaped Malphas's scarlet lips as she knelt down, her free hand gently caressing Luthious's bloodied cheek, a twisted mockery of sibling affection. "Oh, dear brother," she sneered, her touch betraying both familiarity and malice. "You are right, of course. But what satisfaction it will bring me to have you out of the way."
With swift and merciless precision, the obsidian blade surged forward, piercing through Luthious's chest. His golden Aether splattered across Malphas's face, staining her features with the essence of his power. Luthious's eyes widened in shock and pain as Malphas twisted the blade, cruelly ravaging his heart. Silence hung heavy in the air for a fleeting moment before Luthious's form erupted with blinding light. Three beams of radiant energy burst forth from his eyes and open mouth, a thunderous scream tearing through the fabric of existence. And just as abruptly, the scream vanished, replaced by a vacuum of emptiness. Luthious, the Monarch of Light, imploded, reduced to nothing but the dust of a fading light.
Malphas straightened her posture, a triumphant smirk gracing her lips. Her red eyes gleamed with the infernal fires that engulfed her surroundings. But then, there was a crack. The illusory realm fractured into countless shards, revealing the truth hidden beneath the facade.
No longer standing in the fiery arena, the Duchess of Pain now sat upon her imposing infernal throne in the heart of Tartarus, the capital city of Hades. The room surrounding her was bathed in a sinister crimson glow, emanating from the molten lava that coursed through the veins of the dark realm. The throne itself was a macabre masterpiece, constructed from the bones of fallen deities and adorned with the tortured souls of the damned.
She brought a goblet to her blood-stained lips, the vessel filled with the fresh, golden essence of a slain deity—the Aether. Taking a slow, deliberate sip, she relished the taste, savoring the power coursing through her veins.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared into the void, using her own illusion powers to indulge in a sick visual fantasy. She imagined a grand battle with Luthious, her brother's demise at her hands. Yet, it was all but a figment of her imagination, a tantalizing vision that would forever elude her. Luthious remained the strongest being in the multiverse, watching over his faction in the benevolent realm of Elysium.
"Now, if only Baldy were still among the living, we could've worked together to take down dear older brother," Malphas mused, her voice laced with a mixture of longing and contempt. She placed the goblet on the armrest of her throne, her slender fingers dancing with the remnants of Aether. A playful sigh escaped her lips, followed by a devious smile that curled at the corners.
"Let us hope those rumors about your playthings are true, Baldy. We wouldn't want them to go to waste." Chuckling to herself, "Or, perhaps your Child of the Apocalypse can be useful, too," she rose from her throne. "Little Damian, I do wonder where art thou?" She cast a commanding gaze down upon the gladiatorial arena several hundred feet below, her mind already spinning with schemes and plans.
"Thoughts for another time, let's resume the entertainment," she stated darkly as the screams of a captured deity echoed across the arena as a feral Cerberi tore through his body, spilling his golden blood onto the charred ground. It was music to the Monarch's ears as she formed the most sinister smile over the demise of divinity.