The earth beneath was fractured, splintered like ancient glass shards underfoot. The air hung heavy, soaked in silence and the faint metallic tang of blood and burnt magic. Tendrils of dense fog slithered through the ruins, curling between jagged stones like ghostly fingers reaching for something lost.
A shadow lay sprawled amid the debris. Harun. His breath was shallow, uneven, broken. Crimson stained the pale dirt beneath him, a stark contrast to the swirling black and violet energy pulsating faintly beneath his skin — a sickly glow like dying stars trapped in his veins.
His limbs trembled, muscles spasming uncontrollably as if resisting some unseen force clawing from within. The wound on his chest cracked and hissed as the faint light of the Dravillian Stone embedded in his ribs dimmed, flickering uncertainly.
Harun's eyelids fluttered, heavy as stone, but the abyss inside him clawed, desperate to be unleashed.
"Not yet..." he whispered, voice hoarse and cracked, barely audible over the groaning earth.
---
Above, the sky was fractured—a canvas of blackened void shattered by jagged fractures like cracks in a cosmic mirror. Pale light bled from these celestial fissures, dimming the stars until only the faintest glimmers remained. The coldness of space pressed down on the world, squeezing it in a vise of icy dread.
From the depths of that cracked sky, two figures descended. Silent as shadows, yet heavy with a presence that bent the air itself.
One robed in flowing white that shimmered like liquid light, stars swirling within the fabric. His face was hidden behind a mask of molten gold etched with impossible symbols — an empty void swirling beneath, deeper than the abyss itself.
The other clad in armor forged from molten shadows and rivers of blood-red magma, a monstrous figure with jagged edges dripping like liquid fire. His eyes burned with madness older than time, crackling with raw hatred.
They touched down lightly, as if the earth itself dared not disturb them. They stood like gods towering over ants, surveying the battlefield with cruel detachment.
---
The figure in white spoke first, voice low and cold as the void.
"Dreadmar was a failure."
A harsh laugh erupted from the molten warrior. "But the boy... Harun... he holds potential. The spark we cannot afford to snuff out."
Zeraphon—the one in white—nodded slowly, his infinite gaze fixed on the trembling figure below.
"He must be extinguished before he can burn brighter."
---
Harun's mind slipped into darkness, fading as though a void swallowed his senses. The crumbling ruins melted away into an endless white expanse, sterile and empty. It was a blankness deeper than sleep, a silence worse than death.
Then, from that endless quiet, a voice rumbled through the void. Not a whisper, but a command—a roaring summons that shattered his soul.
"WAKE."
The word ripped through him, tearing at the last fragile threads binding him to unconsciousness. Pain exploded like thunder, raw and burning.
Inside him, the abyss stirred. An immense creature, ancient and horned, eyes blazing violet and black, awoke from its slumber. It was the Draconic Shadow — the monstrous being sealed within his soul, the source of his terrible power.
A voice, dark and guttural, echoed inside his mind.
"Use a fragment. Four percent. Not more."
---
Harun's body convulsed violently, energy sparking from his fingertips in a shower of black comets and violet sparks. The air around him crackled with forbidden power.
Then, with a sudden gasp, his eyes snapped open.
Twin flames of violet-black burned deep within their sockets.
---
Zeraphon's starlit gaze flicked with unease.
"He awakens," the white figure murmured.
Ner'zhul, the molten warrior, cracked a cruel grin. "Excellent. Let the games begin."
---
Harun struggled to his feet, limbs trembling but spirit unyielding. His skin cracked and seared with dark energy, the agony burning like acid. Yet in his eyes burned a fire — defiant, wild, unbroken.
"I will not end like this," he growled through clenched teeth.
---
Without warning, he vanished — a ripple of shadow and light that warped the very air.
In the blink of an eye, he reappeared before Ner'zhul, fist drawn back and ready to strike.
A blast of compressed shadows spiraled outward — rings of violet sparks slicing through the air like serrated blades.
Ner'zhul met the attack with a flick of his jagged blade, the shockwave fracturing the scorched earth beneath their feet.
"So, you still have fight," Ner'zhul snarled, eyes burning with hatred.
---
Harun's form blurred, flickering like a broken reflection as he phased above Zeraphon's head.
He summoned the Spectral Fang — a massive black wolf's head bristling with glowing runes, formed from pure shadow and dark magic.
He lunged.
---
Zeraphon raised a hand slowly.
A Void Shield blossomed — an octagonal dome of crystallized space, shimmering with fractured starlight.
The wolf's attack struck the shield with a resonant crack but shattered against it.
"You struggle," Zeraphon said, voice like distant thunder. "Predictable."
---
Harun's teeth clenched in frustration. He unleashed the Chains of Despair — writhing black chains laced with ancient runes, twisting and coiling like serpents as they shot toward his foes.
Ner'zhul's blade tore through the chains, each slice echoing like a curse.
Zeraphon simply phased, becoming translucent, and let the chains pass harmlessly through him.
---
The attackers countered with brutal precision.
Zeraphon raised a palm.
"Void Inversion."
The world twisted violently. Gravity bent and reversed. The fractured sky bowed inward like a dying star collapsing on itself.
Harun's bones screamed beneath the pressure, but he unleashed Dark Pulse — a shockwave of negative energy that shattered the crushing void.
He dropped to one knee, coughing thick blood.
---
"I will end this… or die trying."
Dark runes exploded from his palm, carving burning sigils into the battlefield.
The air screamed with agony.
---
"Merciless Assylabral — Initiated."
A dome erupted, shimmering with abyssal glyphs spinning in geometric patterns. The world dimmed, sounds fading to a haunting silence. Forms shattered into fractured mirrors of black and violet.
---
When the dome faded, Harun lay collapsed again, barely clinging to life.
Zeraphon's robes fluttered in the stillness, untouched.
Ner'zhul clapped mockingly.
"You almost made us feel something. Almost."
---
"Now, your turn to die," Zeraphon said softly.
Together, they unleashed the Void Devourer Beam — a spiraling torrent of violet-black light encasing screaming faces, a nightmare forged from the darkest abyss.
It tore into Harun's chest, blood spraying like a fountain of dark ink.
---
His body went limp, time slowing to a crawl.
"This cannot be the end..." he whispered, fading.
The Dravillian Stone in his chest cracked, pupils dimming to black.
---
The battlefield fell silent.
But inside him... something stirred.
---
A vast void opened within, black mist flowing like sorrowful rivers.
Memories echoed — not as sounds, but as aching feelings.
Harun fell to his knees, silent tears tracing cold paths down his face.
---
From the mist, a figure emerged.
Barefoot, clad in a simple black cloak.
Eyes grey as storm clouds. Calm beyond reckoning.
---
"You cannot die."
Harun looked up, voice trembling.
"Why do they keep falling? Why must everything burn?"
---
The figure knelt beside him.
"Because the war has only just begun."
---
"Who are you?"
"No name. Just... presence."
---
Harun whispered a word — a declaration.
"Ahad."
The shadow within him stirred — ancient and fierce.
"Stand. It is not time to fall."
---
Harun hesitated.
"Why must this keep happening? What are they hunting?"
The figure's eyes glinted with unknowable depths.
"Soon you will understand. But now, we fight."
---
From beyond the void, a vision struck Harun's soul — Zoya, bleeding, sword glowing faintly, standing against endless darkness alone.
Harun's heart shattered.
Fury and desperation igniting like wildfire.
"Look at her. She stands because of you. Will you let her fall?"
His fists clenched, trembling with promise.
"No. Not again."
---
The shadow smiled, cruel and sharp.
"Then lend me your body. Just once. We fight as one."
---
Harun reached inside himself.
A shockwave exploded outward from his soul.
Rings of burning black-violet light spiraled around him.
Ancient symbols cracked the air.
The world bent to his will.
---
Outside, the battlefield warped.
Skies darkened to black-violet thunder.
A pillar of energy surged from his chest.
His eyes snapped open — but they were not his own.
---
Ahad's gaze pierced the void.
His voice echoed — layered and relentless.
"This time, we fight together."
---
Wings of abyssal flame unfurled behind him.
Hair silver-black, floating like smoke underwater.
The air thickened, heavy with raw power.
---
Zeraphon took a step back.
Harun vanished, reappearing before Zeraphon.
His fist struck — not with brute force, but undeniable truth.
The golden mask cracked.
---
Ner'zhul screamed, hurling dozens of Soul Blades.
Harun danced between them, moving faster than thought.
Grabbing one midair, he hurled it back with deadly precision.
---
The battlefield cracked with each step.
Reality twisted and bent.
Chains erupted from Harun's back — wings forged from shadow.
---
Zeraphon summoned Null Field — a dome to erase magic.
Ahad's voice whispered through Harun's mind.
"Then fight without magic."
---
Harun crushed the shield with a kick.
Sending Zeraphon spiraling skyward.
---
Ner'zhul roared, summoning the Soul Leviathan — a colossal dragon of molten bone and tortured screams.
---
Harun spread his arms wide.
"Consume it."
An abyssal maw appeared above, larger than mountains.
It descended, devouring the Leviathan whole.
---
For the first time, Ner'zhul faltered — fear flickering behind his eyes.
---
Harun pointed two fingers with deadly intent.
"Fall."
---
A thousand abyssal spears rained down, exploding with thunderous force.
---
Zeraphon dove to save Ner'zhul.
But Harun met him midair.
They clashed — fists, energy, and will — thunder cracking with each strike.
Stars winked out overhead.
The ground split beneath their fury.
---
At last, Ahad whispered:
"Your turn again."
---
Harun's eyes cleared.
The inferno faded.
He landed, panting but unbroken.
Zeraphon and Ner'zhul knelt, wounded and wary.
---
Harun stepped forward.
"You want to destroy this world? Start by defeating me."
---
His voice rang clear — full of promise and finality.
He raised his hands for one last technique.
Abyssal Requiem.
---
The sky echoed with cries of fallen souls.
Darkness swallowed all.
---
The final battle had only begun.