DAINEN'S PERSPECTIVE: THE WEIGHT OF A GOD'S PALM
The air itself shook under the crushing force of the Ruler's Palm—an invisible, godlike grip pressing down on us like the hand of an angry deity. I, Dainen, fought against it with every ounce of my strength, my muscles screaming from the effort, but my body refused to move. No matter how hard I pushed, the weight was too much. Around me, the other Rulers—beings of unimaginable power—were just as helpless, their faces twisted in frustration. We were nothing more than spectators now, forced to watch as Krelious and Nielan clashed in a battle that could tear apart the very fabric of existence.
Beneath them, the Multiverse Core—a swirling, glowing heart of countless realities—pulsed weakly, its light flickering like a dying flame as their fight raged on.
NIELAN'S STRUGGLE: BLOOD, DEFIANCE, AND THE EDGE OF OBLIVION
Nielan's body slammed into the Multiverse Core with enough force to send shockwaves rippling through space and time. The impact was brutal—his bones, forged from celestial power, shattered on contact, his divine blood splattering across the endless void like crimson paint. He coughed, droplets of blood floating in the weightless air, each one a sign of his pain. Gritting his teeth, he tried to push himself up, his arms trembling—only for Krelious to strike him again.
The next punch hit like a collapsing star.
Nielan's body crumpled, his ribs caving in under the sheer, destructive force. A lesser god would have been wiped from existence by such a blow. But Nielan was no ordinary god. He was a Ruler—one of the few beings strong enough to withstand, even for a moment, the full wrath of Krelious.
But surviving was not the same as winning.
KRELIOUS: THE DISAPPOINTMENT OF A PURE BREED
Krelious hovered above his fallen opponent, his golden eyes burning with fury—and something worse: disgust. He shook his head slowly, his expression filled with cold disappointment.
"Fighting you, Nielan, is like teaching a child how to stand," he said, his voice echoing with the weight of countless ages. "This battle is pointless. And I hate it. So please… let's stop."
These were not the words of a plea. They were a command—spoken with the unshakable confidence of a being who had never known defeat.
NIELAN'S SMILE: A DEFIANT SPARK IN THE DARKNESS
Nielan, lying broken on the cracked surface of the Core, did something unexpected.
He smiled.
Blood stained his lips, his body wrecked, but his spirit remained unbroken. With a ragged breath, he finally spoke, his voice a whisper that carried across the endless battlefield.
"You don't even see me as an opponent," he said, chuckling weakly. "To you, I'm still just a child… just as I've always been, since the day we were born."
Krelious's eyes darkened.
"And just like at our birth," he growled, "you still hunger for power. Power you will never have."
The anger in his voice was like a storm trapped inside a god's throat.
Nielan laughed—a raw, broken sound. Then, with impossible effort, he pushed himself up, his limbs shaking but his gaze steady.
"I know what you are, Krelious," he said, his voice growing stronger. "A Pure Breed. A being without limits. Your power goes beyond what even the other Rulers can understand. You could crush us all beneath your heel without even trying."
A pause. A breath.
"But it won't be so easy… when you face both me and the Void Creator."
THE VOID'S ARRIVAL: THE END OF ALL THINGS
The moment the words left Nielan's lips, reality itself tore apart.
From the endless darkness between worlds, the Void Creator emerged—a being of pure destruction, a force older than time itself. Its fist, wrapped in the essence of nothingness, struck Krelious with a force that erased half the Multiverse in an instant.
Stars died. Realities crumbled.
Krelious—the unbeatable, the unstoppable—was sent flying through the wreckage of existence, his body a blazing comet of divine fury, crashing toward the very edge of the Universe itself.
And in that moment, the true battle began.
THE FINAL CONFRONTATION: KRELIOUS AND THE END OF ALL THINGS
Krelious, his body glowing with the light of dying stars, steadied himself in the chaos. His chest rose and fell with slow, controlled breaths, the fury in his eyes now replaced by a cold, unshakable resolve.
Across the endless void, the Void Creator loomed—a shadow of infinite darkness—while Nielan, once a brother, now a traitor, bared his teeth in a snarl that promised only death.
Krelious allowed himself a smile. It was not kind.
"I was ready to forgive you, Nielan," he roared, his voice like thunder splitting the silence between worlds. "But power is all you care about. It has hollowed you out. You would even kill me to claim it."
Nielan's laughter was sharp with hate. "F*ck you, Krelious! The Void and I will erase your name from history!"
The Narrator's voice echoed like a funeral song: There would be no mercy here.
With speed beyond time, the two charged. The Void Creator moved like a living storm, tendrils of oblivion tearing at the fabric of existence. Nielan was a comet of rage, his fists burning with power. But Krelious—Krelious was fate itself.
He dodged their attacks effortlessly, a ghost of perfect skill. When Nielan over extended, Krelious struck. His punch was not just physical—it was judgment given form. The impact shook the cosmos, a shockwave of pure wrath that sent Nielan spinning into the Starverse, his body broken and helpless as it vanished into the endless dark.
Now, only the Void remained.
Their battle rewrote the laws of reality. Every punch shattered galaxies; every kick split dimensions. The last fragments of the multiverse trembled as they fought—a war of titans where each blow erased another piece of creation.
Frustration twisted the Void Creator's form. "Enough!" it roared, weaving a spell older than time itself. Reality recoiled as it unleashed "Linger, Dragon of the Abyss!"—a curse that devoured all light, all hope. The spell struck Krelious in an explosion of darkness, a blast powerful enough to destroy millions of dimensions. The Starverse collapsed, its death silent in the endless void.
THE WITNESSES: PLANET XIAN'S HORROR
On the last surviving world, Xian, the survivors stared at the sky in terror.
Akermos stumbled, his voice raw. "Two verses… gone in an instant."
Zion clutched his head. "Why side with the Void? What madness is this?"
Tavis, blinded and paralyzed by Krelious' earlier wrath, whimpered. "What's happening? Someone—anyone—answer me!" But the others were frozen, trapped in their own fear.
Dainen's whisper was sharp as a blade. "Don't tell me… he survived that."
Zielan pointed to the sky, where the Ruler's Palm—the mark of Krelious' power—still burned bright. "Look. It's still there. He's alive."
Nealon let out a slow breath. "We're just watching the end. We can't even move."
THE DUST SETTLES
The echoes of the explosion faded. The Void Creator's form flickered, its voice trembling with disbelief.
"You took my two strongest spells… head-on." The words were ashes in its mouth. "How? How?!"
From the swirling wreckage, Krelious emerged. Unharmed. Unbroken. His smile widened as the battle was just getting started.