INT. THRONE HALL – SUNSET
EREBUS
The golden throne beneath me does not creak. It commands. Towering, crowned with sun-forged spires and flanked by lion-headed beasts cast in molten brass, it rises like a monument to my dominion. Every edge gleams, every line carved with the precision of a civilization long lost—one that now serves only as foundation for my rule.
The chamber around me is a cathedral of power. Arched pillars, trimmed in gold and black stone, reach for a ceiling carved with celestial wars—my victories etched in eternal detail. Crystal chandeliers spill warm light down velvet drapes and polished obsidian floors, as if the hall itself bows in reverence.
Behind me, massive windows stretch to the heavens, casting amber sunlight across the gold-veined tiles. The air is rich with incense, but it cannot mask the weight of silence. It is the kind of silence that holds its breath when I enter. The kind that listens.
Then I hear it.
Footsteps.
Hesitant. Fragile.
They echo like cracks in the spine of this empire.
Agrona enters first, cloaked in failure. I see it in the way her shoulders tremble, in the twitch of her lips. Her armor—once proud, now scarred. Behind her, Jabez walks like a man who's already buried himself.
They kneel before me.
And I wait.
Let the silence suffocate them.
Agrona speaks, her voice brittle and dry.
"My lord Erebus… we found the humans. Samuel Vincent and Desmond Chukwu. But… we failed to retrieve the Time Cube."
My heart stills.
I stare.
No emotion. No words.
Just pressure.
Did I hear her correctly?
You failed?
I don't say it out loud—not yet—but my hands curl tight around the armrests. The throne's gold frame groans beneath my grip. My jaw stiffens. The golden lions at my sides seem to glare forward with me, frozen mid-roar.
When I rise, it's slow. Purposeful.
Every step I take forward sends echoes down the spine of the hall.
"You… what?"
Agrona doesn't meet my eyes. Jabez keeps his head bowed, silent.
"You failed?"
I descend the steps, each one booming like judgment itself.
"I shaped you both in fire. Fed you to the void and pulled you back forged. You were my finest. My sharpened edge. And mortals… humans… defeated you?"
Jabez flinches.
Agrona dares to lift her head. She rushes out the words like a prayer.
"They had help. A man with a blade and shield—inhumanly skilled. A marksman beyond any human. And a woman—she moved like wind. Twin blades that danced like they were alive."
"Enough!"
My roar rips through the hall, and the chandeliers tremble above us. The walls—lined with statues of conquerors and kings—shudder. Even the marble beneath us feels as if it recoils from my fury.
I stride up to them, towering. Their fear is thick in the air.
"I sent you to conquer, not to collect excuses!"
Agrona's forehead touches the floor. Jabez's breathing is ragged.
I lean in, just enough that they feel the heat of my breath.
"You've brought shame upon this empire. And upon me."
Suddenly—CRASH.
The side doors burst open. One of my guards stumbles in, blood on his cheek, chest heaving.
He drops to one knee.
"My Emperor," he pants, "seven strangers… they fell from the sky. They hijacked your ancient ship. They've crashed it into the capital. Entire blocks are gone. They're fighting each other. Thousands… are dead."
I turn slowly.
My voice is ice over gold.
"Let them fight."
The guard freezes.
"I will deal with them… soon. Personally."
He bows low and retreats, his armor clinking like fear.
I face Agrona and Jabez again. Still kneeling. Still stained by failure.
I move closer.
"Listen to me," I say low, my voice now coiled like a serpent. "You will not fail again."
They nod quickly, lips trembling.
"Your next task is clear. Find the Quivers. Retrieve them—at any cost. Burn cities if you must. Tear their world limb from limb if it brings that power back to me."
Jabez finally speaks, a whisper, unsure if it will cost him his life.
"But… we don't know where the Quivers are."
I grin.
It is not a warm thing.
It is the smile of a volcano moments before eruption.
"Then allow me to enlighten you."
I begin to circle them, slow as smoke.
"They are in Africa. A place called Nigeria. Oyo State—the pulse of that world. The old empire. The ground there still remembers the voices of gods."
Agrona speaks again, barely above a whisper.
"And if others defend them?"
I stop.
Turn my head.
Meet her eyes.
"Then let them die… screaming."
I ascend the throne once more.
The golden light from above catches the edge of my robes, casting long, monstrous shadows across the polished obsidian floor.
I sit.
And stare into the dark distance as Gavaria burns behind my walls.
Their screams will be music soon enough.
And I will compose the symphony.
MORINJO
The silence after the battle hangs heavy. Smoke curls from the broken walls. Sparks flicker from the exposed gut of the alien spaceship behind us, still humming low like it hasn't accepted its own death yet.
I glance down.
Bodies.
Aliens—some burned, others crushed by falling debris from the ruined buildings nearby.
My chest tightens.
We didn't just fight each other. We destroyed everything in our way.
John—walks past me, eyes lifted. "The sky," he mutters. "Even after all this… it's still beautiful."
I follow his gaze.
He's right.
Golden clouds stretch across a deep violet sky, torn slightly at the edges by smoke but still burning with soft color. Beneath it, Gavaria's towers tilt and lean, wounded but not fallen.
Charlotte stands nearby, brushing dust from her arms. Michael checks his arms. Emma paces.
Trivium's axe hums with energy, resting on his shoulder. Shang Lei tightens the straps on his robes.
We all look at each other, quiet.
"We need to talk." I say, stepping forward.
Michael nods. "We're listening."
We gather in a loose circle. No leader. Just seven people trying to figure out how to stop a god.
John speaks first. "We all saw what Erebus did to the families that tried to stop him: Trivium's and Belteshazzar's. That won't be us. We fight smart. We trap him."
Charlotte crosses her arms. "Set the trap in Gavaria. His kingdom. Draw him in."
Shang Lei's voice is calm. "It won't be hard. Erebus is prideful. If he hears we're in his city, he'll come for us himself."
"And the bait?" Emma asks.
"Me," Shang Lei says. "He wants my amulet. He'll come for it."
Emma tilts her head. "Once he's in, I'll hit him first. Seismic waves, hard and fast. Get him off his balance."
Trivium's deep voice rumbles. "Then I'll follow. Lightning. Everything I have."
Charlotte nods, eyes sharp. "And I'll pull the storm down on him. Wind, pressure, electric charge—whatever it takes to keep him grounded."
Shang Lei steps forward. "While he's reeling, I'll cast the binding spell. Old magic. Chains. They'll hold—if we hit him hard enough first."
Michael looks at me. "And then?"
I meet his eyes. My fists tighten.
"Then I end it."
No one flinches. They don't need to.
They know I mean it.
Emma steps closer, her voice low. "You sure you'll have it in you? To kill him?"
I nod. "If we weaken him enough… I will."
Silence.
Then Trivium lets out a breath. "Alright. It's a good plan."
Michael smirks. "It's risky."
John smiles slightly. "It's also the only chance we've got."
Charlotte lifts her left hand—small arcs of electricity ripple in her palm. "Then let's not waste time."
The wind changes—sudden, sharp. Like it senses him before we do.
My skin tingles. Emma stiffens beside me, then instinctively takes a step back.
"He's coming," Charlotte murmurs. Her eyes lock on mine.
I nod. "Everyone, move. Let's set the trap."
We break off, scattering to our positions—ducking behind ruined walls and half-standing buildings. Silence falls. The air thickens with tension.
Then it happens.
A deep, humming vibration pulses through the street—low and guttural. A red portal blooms open like a wound in the sky. I peek from behind a cracked wall, holding my breath.
Erebus steps out.
Regal. Calm. Dangerous.
He surveys the empty street, his dark eyes scanning the stillness. There's not a single citizen in sight—they've all fled. Good. That was the plan.
Across the street, on the steps of a broken skyscraper, Shang Lei sits alone—like bait in plain sight. Calm. Waiting.
Erebus begins walking toward him, slow and steady.
"Here he comes," Shang mutters, just loud enough. As Erebus approaches, he adds with a cold smirk, "You're much more dramatic in person, Erebus."
Erebus stops a few feet away. His deep voice rumbles out, measured and low. "Lei."
Shang raises an eyebrow. "You know who I am?"
Erebus tilts his head. "Of course. Son of Weng Lei. Ruler of Chacang Village, Tibet. One of the finest sorcerers in the multiverse."
Shang nods slightly. "I'm flattered. So, the master of the Dead honors the Mystic Arts."
"Don't mention my master," Erebus says sharply.
"Why not?" Shang asks, his smile fading. "Afraid I'll remind you of what you did? Treasure Planet? Trivium's family?"
Erebus's face hardens. "None of that was my fault. I asked peacefully. They refused."
"So you killed them all and took what you wanted?"
Erebus shrugs, stepping closer. "Exactly."
"And now?" Shang asks, his tone sharper. "Looking for my teammates?"
Erebus narrows his eyes. "Don't play games, Lei. I know you didn't come here alone. Six others came with you. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"
Shang stands slowly, his eyes never leaving Erebus. "Then let me ask you something. Why does an emperor... run errands?"
Erebus lifts a brow. "Excuse me?"
"You have everything. Power. Armies. Weapons. A kingdom. Why are you answering to someone else? Why serve?"
Erebus's smile is cold. "You misunderstand. In every universe, there are layers of authority. Yes, they bow to me. On this planet, and the ones I've burned. But I bow to someone greater—Master Goliath."
Shang chuckles, then lets the smile drop. "What happens when you find all the infinite weapons and hand them over to him?"
Erebus grins wider, something feral in his eyes.
"I'll rewrite the history of three Earths. Erase every so-called hero from existence. Then, I'll rule over them—and Gavaria. All at once."
He gives a slow, malicious smile. "How does that sound, sorcerer?"
Shang Lei slides into his battle stance—shoulders firm, hands rising with quiet precision. A flicker of magic glows at his fingertips.
"It sounds like madness," he says. "But we're not going to let it happen."
Erebus raises an eyebrow. "We?"
The air thickens.
Before another word leaves his lips, Michael ignites—flames roar across his shoulders and arms. His eyes burn amber. Without a cue, he launches forward like a flaming missile, fists wreathed in fire, a war cry tearing from his throat.
He slams into Erebus with brutal force—a fiery explosion erupts on impact. The street cracks beneath the shockwave, glass from the nearby buildings bursts and rains down.
But Erebus doesn't fly back.
The smoke clears. Erebus stands unmoved, his arm extended, fist locked around Michael's flaming throat.
"You dare burn a god?" Erebus growls, his voice like cracking boulders.
Michael grits his teeth—and erupts. Flames detonate from every pore, forcing Erebus to shield his face. In that split-second, Emma streaks past like lightning, her sonic boom rattling the ground.
She slides beneath Erebus's legs and unleashes a seismic burst upward—the pavement beneath Erebus erupts, launching him several meters into the air.
Trivium leaps next.
Thunder howls.
He twists mid-air and hurls Mighty Axe like a comet, the axe slicing through the storm overhead as lightning coils around it.
It strikes Erebus's chest—and for once, the tyrant grunts. He spirals downward and slams into a skyscraper, shattering windows and steel beams as he crashes through floors like a meteor.
The building creaks.
Tilts.
And collapses.
Dust rises. But Erebus walks out.
Limbs scorched. Blood on his lip.
Smiling.
Charlotte floats into the air, arms stretched. Her eyes glow bright white-red as storm clouds gather unnaturally fast overhead. The winds scream.
Bolts rain down, slicing the sky with thunderous fury, slamming into Erebus's path with precise violence.
"I will take that amulet," he roars, eyes locking on Shang Lei.
And then Shang Lei steps forward.
Both hands rise.
The wind halts. The earth quiets.
A golden ring of symbols spins around his wrists, ancient language rippling through the air.
Chains.
Heavy. Blazing with runes.
They erupt from portals around Erebus, snapping onto his arms, legs, chest, neck—pulling tight.
Erebus roars. His muscles bulge. He tries to tear them.
He can't.
Emma dashes in again—one final quake punch to his spine. Trivium answers with a massive lightning strike. Charlotte drops the eye of the storm directly on his head.
Erebus collapses.
He twitches.
Smoke rises from his body.
I land.
Slow.
Quiet.
The earth bends slightly under my boots.
His eyes find me.
"Path Finder," he breathes, weakly now. "Do it."
I form a blade of stone and fire, in one thought. My hands are steady. My breath—controlled.
I raise it.
Then—
A roar tears the sky open.
BOOM!
Something slams into the ground behind me—a shockwave knocks everyone back.
I roll and lift my eyes.
Gordon stands tall in the rubble, his four fists flexing, red skin gleaming like molten rock. His tusks curl up in a twisted grin, and chest rises like a beast unleashed.
I freeze.
My voice escapes before I can stop it. "I… I thought I killed you."
His grin deepens—cruel, almost proud "You did." His tone is calm. Too calm. "But Goliath—my true master—he pulled me back. Said it wasn't over."
I narrow my eyes. "Why?"
Gordon tilts his head slightly, as if the answer is obvious.
"To save my Emperor… and slaughter every last one of you."
He slams his foot into the ground and charges—a blur of muscle and fury.
The earth quakes under his weight.
I spin around quickly, eyes locking on my team behind me—Trivium, Shang Lei, Moth. Michael. Charlotte. Emma.
"I'll hold him!" I shout.
"One of you—finish the mission!"
No more time.
I plant my feet.
Bend my knees.
Raise my hands.
Breath in. Focus. Balance.
The wind circles me like a whisper. My fists tighten.
I launch forward—no staff, no fear, just raw power and purpose.
We both run swiftly at each other—no hesitation.
The city shakes beneath our feet.
I bend the air around me, launching into a boosted sprint, while Gordon thunders forward like a stampede of monsters. Four fists clenched, tusks bared, eyes glowing like death.
He's faster than before...
He throws the first punch—straight for my face. I duck, slide under it, and launch myself up with a burst of wind, flipping behind him.
Fire coils around my fist as I land a clean punch to his ribs.
He growls. Doesn't flinch.
He spins with all four arms, and I barely erect a wall of earth before his barrage caves it in and sends me skidding down the street like a ragdoll.
Shards of my shattered mask scattering across the ground. For a second, I'm exposed—bare-faced, and cough. Blood. But I'm still breathing fast.
"You hit harder than before," I mutter.
He roars, eyes flaring with laser heat—then fires all four beams straight at me.
Tiny black particles crawl across my jawline like living metal, snapping into place piece by piece. In a blink, the mask rebuilds itself over my face, smooth and seamless.
I push off the ground and dive forward, sprinting into the narrow alley as the walls behind me warp and melt from the blast. With a sharp swing of my arm, I send a pulse through my gauntlet—slabs of concrete tear from the side of the building and crash down, cutting off his path.
He bursts through the rubble, snarling.
"Distracting me won't save your friends!" he growls.
"Not trying to save them…" I say, stomping the ground. A wave of stone lifts me up and hurls me at him.
"I'm buying time."
I crash into him, both of us toppling into a skyscraper. Glass shatters. Steel buckles.
We fall together into a lobby.
He slams a fist into my gut.
I explode in fire, blasting him backward.
Gordon crashes into a pillar, leaving a crater. His chest heaves. Blood on his lip.
I charge, fists of flame and wind, and unleash a furious combo—wind, fire, fists, knees.
He blocks. Grabs my leg. Slams me into the floor.
Once. Twice.
Crack.
I bite back the pain, freeze the ground under him, then kick upward. He slips—I uppercut him with a stone fist from the earth.
He spits blood. I pant.
We stare at each other.
Breathing hard. Bleeding. Burning.
Still standing.
We lunge again—both landing punches at the same time, both grunting, both knocked back by the force.
We don't speak.
We just fight.
And keep fighting.
Until the street is cracked. Buildings crushed. The air tastes like ash and sweat.
Until our muscles fail us.
And finally—we both drop to one knee.
Still glaring.
Still not done.
But too exhausted to throw the next punch.
To be continued....