The End of the World

Evil had won.

The Dark Lord had won. The Kingdom of Soluna had been completely transformed by the darkness of their current King – Orion, Son of Evil.

The former Chosen One.

How far he had fallen from the light into this vile pit of darkness that now swallowed this vast piece of land. Whatever happened to the scrawny kid once destined to save this planet from Evil? Whatever happened to that kindhearted boy who would take the time out of his day to fend off monsters from a local farm in the countryside? Whatever happened to the young warrior who led his band of merry friends to adventure, mystery, and whimsy?

Whatever happened to the Chosen One?

Now standing alone, all of his friends dead and gone. Still a young man – lean, short – but radiating an intense power the very planet Gigas they stood on could hardly bear. He was the most powerful being on this world. None could match the mystery of this warlock’s infinite magick.

His short white hair, once soft and wild in his youth, now framed a face as unreadable as the void. But it was his eyes that marked him as something beyond mortal – his scleras were as black as the abyss, swallowing the light, while his irises burned crimson red, gleaming like embers in the darkness. Completely unblinking.

Here was a dark priest wielding his heavy black mace, carved squared, with no sharpness, only blunt and brutal – A weapon of raw force, weighted with the blood of those who had opposed him.

He wore no golden crown. No robes or velvet or silk. His armor was plain dark leather, worn from battle yet reinforced with enchantments that made it stronger than any steel. A long, flowing red scarf draped from his shoulders, the only remnant of his past, its tattered ends fluttering in the bitter wind.

On his other hand, he carried his round silver shield. Strong, sturdy, indestructible. It was not only a tool used for defense, but also a ritualistic conduit as Orion bashed it with his mace as if it were a drum. This was the skill of a dark priest such as himself, calling out to the shadows with his operatic chanting as nearby volcanoes erupted, bathing the crumbling towers of his castle in an eerie crimson glow.

The land cried out, writhing in both agony and worship for their new Dark Lord.

Footsteps thundered up the spiraling stairway – swift and unrelenting.Terran and his soldiers, now the last hope of the forces of good against the Son of Evil. Hurrying as they ascended toward their final battle.

Bursting into the chamber, facing Orion now, his archnemesis – Terran, the mortal elven warrior.

He stood at the threshold, dual swords gleaming in his grasp. His armor shone with a silver radiance, the polish of the knight of legend, yet dented from countless wars. Etched across it were accents of deep blue and rich gold, a warrior’s regalia that caught the dim torchlight, reflecting the last remnants of a world not yet consumed by darkness.

Terran’s long golden hair rippled like a banner in the wind, untamed and wild, as if an eagle itself had taken flight. His gaze – piercing, unyielding – was locked onto the Dark Lord, not with fear, nor hesitation, but with something far more dangerous. Hatred. A cold, burning hatred that did not flicker like fleeting rage but stood unshaken, forged, and exhausted from years upon years of molten steel clashing.

Terran had killed beasts, monsters, gods. Even magicians, wizards, and other warlocks. And yet, he himself wielded no magicks. Not even a trace of sorcery tainted his veins. Even among the high elves he was deemed unusual. But he was a man of the earth through and through, of the once lush, green soil. Completely mortal.

In his hands were only steel and his raw skill. So how was it that he was able to slay gods and dragons powerful enough to reshape the galaxies? The mystery mattered little now that he was the only name left standing against the reign of the ultimate enemy.

Orion did not even turn to face the soldiers. Still keeping his hands clasped behind his back as invisible lightning crackled through the air. In an instant, they were reduced to ash and bone – all but Terran.

Still, Orion did not move.

Pointing his sword at the Dark Lord, Terran snarled:

“Turn around – bastard.”

Only now tilting his head slightly, his eyes glowing of an unnatural, Evil red. Terran gritted his teeth:

“I should’ve killed you back then.” His grip on the hilt tightened. “God had mercy, and I don’t know why.”

Finally, Orion moved. His heavy footsteps echoed through the chamber, each one sending tremors through the floor, like a mountain quaking in the distance every time the boots touched the floor. He turned at last to face the elven warrior. Despite being nearly a foot shorter, Terran felt the air difficult to breathe from the sheer force of Orion’s aura emanating from his very being.

“This ends today,” Terran readied his stance. “No more. The bloodshed stops.”

Taking his position, with his eyes crackling of heavy lightning denser than ever before, Orion had finally accepted his fate.

“A new age now begins,” Orion finally spoke. “Die an infinite death.”

Now instantly rupturing the sound barrier, Terran lunged forth as his blades gleamed in the dying light. Orion did not flinch. With a flick of his wrist, his mace unfolded, expanding from a compact shape into a brutal, iron executioner’s weapon.

Blades met mace. A sound like a thunderclap rang out. The force alone cracked the marble beneath them. Traveling further out to shatter mountains in the distance.

Terran struck again, his speed inhuman in the form of a blur of silver and gold. Orion moved as if gravity did not bind him, sidestepping, countering with a ruthless downward swing.

A single misstep would have meant death. But Terran pushed on, thrusting his sword forward only to be stopped by the strong gravity of Orion’s telekinesis, pushing him off as his shield now fully snapped open for Orion to charge forward. Launching himself like a human battering ram.

Volcanoes continued to erupt, shaking the earth with lightning splitting the very earth itself, parting the very clouds to reveal the dark heavens above, and Orion saw this – the stars. With a mere gesture of his hand, and the gravity emanating from his palm began tugging at them. A terrible ripple echoed through the cosmos as several stars trembled, drawn toward Gigas.

The planet groaned under the impossible force.

Here Terran faltered, the sheer distortion of gravity throwing him off balance.

The smallest grin crept up on Orion’s face, seeing the end in sight. He declared:

“You will be a thorn in my side no longer.”

But then – this day of wrath was halted.

The air split open. A rupture in the fabric of existence. Light came forth, that no one knew from where. Perhaps something that should not be. But I say otherwise.

Here a crackling void of impossible radiance erupted between Terran and Orion, its glow both blinding and devouring. Time faltered – the castle walls flickered, warping in and out of reality.

Terran had no choice but to shield his eyes. His breath caught in his throat as he staggered back.

But Orion did not move. Because the light was reaching for him. Tendrils of radiance, pulling, grasping, wrapping around his limbs. The dark magicks woven into his very being shrieked in resistance.

And then…

He was gone.

Gigas now knew not whether to weep or rejoice.