Zawish and the Echoes of Lore
Part 4 of the Zawish Saga
Full Novel Format – Brutal, Dangerous, and Epic
The skies were still burning from the ashes of Thragorr's collapse. Earth was not celebrating; Earth was silent. The kind of silence that whispered, This isn't over.
Zawish stood at the edge of the ruined battlefield, blood still dripping from the golden edges of his Dar Metal glove. He had won—but it didn't feel like a victory. Not when half the moon was shattered. Not when millions had died. Not when his own heartbeat felt… wrong.
He looked up.
The stars flickered unnaturally.
The veil had been torn.
And something… something was coming.
The New Breach
A dimensional fracture was open over Antarctica—a rip that twisted time, space, and reason. It was silent, but screaming. Cracked like broken glass, the breach pulsed in dark red and midnight black. Out of it came floating dark particles, like ash falling upwards.
Inside the Pentagon, alarms screamed.
"Another rift?" shouted General Markwell. "This is the third one in forty-eight hours!"
But this one was different.
This one didn't leak monsters.
It leaked darkness. Living, conscious darkness.
Return of the Forgotten
Far beyond the breach, in the core of the Dark Dimension, a throne of bone and molten shadow stirred.
And upon it sat… Kallameth.
No one had spoken his name in a thousand dimensions. He was banished by Lore Zom himself during the Timequake War of the First Universe.
He was the Rejected King. The Betrayer. The one who once wielded the Sword of Silence and devoured entire galaxies for sport.
And now?
Now he was smiling.
"So… Thragorr is gone," he whispered. "Then the game begins."
He opened his skeletal palm.
Inside was a drop of essence—dark, and humming with rage. Thragorr's remains.
"Time to build a better monster."
: Zawish's Haunting
Back in his hidden compound—nicknamed "The Core"—Zawish stared at the scars on his glove. The Dar Metal was shaking for the first time in centuries.
"Something's wrong," he muttered.
His reflection in the mirror trembled. Then changed.
In its place was an older, bearded version of himself—eyes glowing blue.
"You are not ready, Zawish."
"Who are you?" he asked, stepping back.
"I'm what you become… if you fail."
Zawish blinked. The image was gone.
Suddenly, an alarm blared from the sky. An incoming object, fast and blazing.
He rushed outside and looked up.
A meteor? No.
A body.
Thragorr's corpse.
Only—it moved.
: Resurrection Engine
Kallameth had done the unthinkable.
He combined Thragorr's essence with his own—reviving him as something worse.
Thrallgor.
Twice the power. None of the soul.
This wasn't a warrior. This was a plague in humanoid form.
He landed in the center of Washington DC. The impact crater swallowed five blocks.
Civilians screamed. Buildings crumbled. Thrallgor rose, glowing with black lightning.
Zawish arrived.
"You again?" Thrallgor sneered.
Zawish looked at him, calm. "No. You're not him. You're a patchwork of failure and ego."
"You gonna cry, glove-boy?" Thrallgor spat.
Zawish cracked his neck. "Nah. But you are."
They clashed. The shockwave shattered clouds.
Brutality Unleashed
Their fight was cataclysmic. Each punch sounded like a mountain breaking. Zawish ducked a flaming sword slash and countered with a full glove blast to the chest.
Thrallgor tanked it.
"You hit like a moody raccoon," he laughed, backhanding Zawish into a skyscraper.
Zawish stood, wiped blood from his mouth.
"Cute. But you smell like burnt disappointment."
The fight escalated. Cars flew. Earth cracked. Zawish launched into orbit just to punch Thrallgor through a meteor and drag him back into the ocean with a sonic divekick.
But Thrallgor laughed underwater. "You can't stop what's already reborn!"
He stabbed Zawish in the stomach.
The hero coughed blood.
"You think I'm scared of death?" Zawish whispered.
Then he smiled.
"You forget… I was born from death."
Lore's Glimpse
Just as Thrallgor was about to strike the final blow, a golden rift opened in the sky.
A massive eye appeared—blazing with a cosmic light.
It was Lore Zom.
For the first time in ages, he spoke.
"Zawish… rise."
The Dar Metal glove surged with light. The earth pulsed beneath him.
Zawish screamed—not in pain, but in awakening.
The glove expanded into full armor, wrapping him in celestial metal, now glowing with runes written in Lore Zom's voice.
He grabbed Thrallgor's sword.
Snapped it in half.
"Round two," Zawish growled.
No Mercy
Zawish moved faster than light. He teleported mid-punch, appearing behind Thrallgor with a smile. "Peekaboo."
He shattered his spine with a punch and launched him into orbit.
Thrallgor tried to regenerate.
Zawish flew after him.
"No."
One punch. Two. Three. The gloves turned red-hot. Then molten. Then invisible.
Each strike erased atoms.
Thrallgor begged. "W-wait! I was just created—I didn't choose this!"
Zawish hesitated.
Then said coldly, "Neither did the people you slaughtered."
He grabbed Thrallgor's head and slammed it through five dimensions, ending in a collapse of pure light.
Silence After the Storm
The body floated.
Still. Quiet.
Earth was safe—for now.
But Zawish stood, scarred, glowing, confused.
He looked up.
And saw… more rifts.
Ten. No—thousands.
Each one had eyes watching through them.
Lore Zom whispered in his mind:
"The true war begins now. What you faced was a whisper. The scream is coming."