The chamber reeked of death.
Queen Lorelei stood before the obsidian throne, her sea glass eyes locked on the pile of scorched shadows that used to be the Entity. Veltherion, the Forgotten King, had obliterated him with a pulse of pure, ancient power, leaving behind nothing but blackened soot and the echo of screams that hadn't fully faded. The air still shimmered with the remnants of that unholy strike, stained with divine magic and something darker.
Lorelei's expression was unreadable as she stepped over the remains. Ash clung to her bare feet. Her silver gown dragged trails through it like prophecy in motion. She ascended the stairs slowly, one hand dragging along the carved railing, it was bone, polished and old.
The throne loomed.
It was massive, grotesque, and beautiful. Wrought from twisted metals, etched bones, and what looked like petrified souls. No one but The Entity had dared sit on it in millennia.
Until now.
Lorelei sat.
The shadows roared to life.
From the corners of the throne room, creatures stirred. Horrors born of nightmares, half formed beings, whispers in physical form. They came slinking from the dark, kneeling before her. Every last one bowed their malformed heads, acknowledging their new ruler.
And then,
A voice. Low. Ancient. A rasp curling in the back of her mind like a snake coiling beneath her ribcage.
"You thought me dead, beloved?"
Lorelei gasped, clutching her temples.
"I left a seed behind... in you. A shard. And from you, I shall rise again."
Her body trembled as her fingers dug into the armrests of the throne.
"Veltherion was strong... but not clever enough to check for rot beneath the roots. I will return. And this time, I will not fail."
Lorelei blinked as her irises flickered black for a moment. Her lips parted in a small, dark smile. She didn't scream. She didn't resist.
She welcomed it.
"Let's begin."
The ash around the throne pulsed. The shadows deepened. And deep within her womb of madness, something wicked stirred awake.
Forgotten King POV
The darkness welcomed him like an old friend.
Veltherion sat upon his blackened throne carved from the petrified bones of elder gods, the veil still trembling from the moment he reached through to snatch his little moon toy. Rhiannan.
But the taste of the soul that met him instead?
Wrong.
Ancient.
Powerful.
He hadn't grabbed prey…
He'd seized a weapon forged in the oldest chaos. The one who had literally just escaped, has sacrificed himself to save the star bitch.
A fist of pure, seething energy exploded through his grip, sending black lightning cracking across his realm. The chamber shuddered as Azarion, god of chaos and moonfire, burst through the veil like a living tempest.
Veltherion reeled back, fury radiating off him like a storm. "You!!" he hissed, voice jagged. "You were sealed. Forgotten."
Azarion didn't answer, just grinned. Rhiannan had freed him, he would raise hell to save her. He burned with rage.
A glowing sigil flared across his chest, Nythera's divine mark, and his silver eyes glowed with unbridled rage as he launched forward, fists and magic flying. The room warped with every blow. Chaos wrapped around Azarion like wildfire, turning shadows to ash.
Veltherion struck back with everything he had, void fire, death chains, screams of the lost. The two ancient powers collided in a battle that shook every dimension.
Cracks spread through the veil.
Celestial blood spilled onto dead stone.
Time glitched.
Azarion growled through bloodstained lips, "You will never touch her."
Veltherion grabbed him by the throat, shadow tendrils writhing, but just as he sank his claws in,
A blast of moonlight tore through the chamber.
The veil ripped open.
Nythera herself stepped through in full god form, glowing like a thousand galaxies, flanked by her guardians, armored giants of silver flame.
"ENOUGH."
The word shattered the void walls.
A blinding spear of divine magic pierced Veltherion's chest, staggering him backward. Azarion broke free, snarling as he gripped Nythera's hand. The goddess summoned a starlight portal, and the pair vanished in a blink, leaving the Forgotten King coughing black blood and SCREAMING.
He collapsed to one knee, eyes glowing with rage.
"She thinks she's won…" he muttered. "She's only delayed the end."
Behind him, the shadows whispered. Twisted. Moved.
Lorelei's corruption stirred the air, her presence rippling through his realm now like a slow poison. The King sneered, " He's smarter than I thought." He obliterated The Entity, but he could still sense his existence, so he managed to stay alive like an evil little cockroach.
And Veltherion, God of the End, knew one thing,
The gods were no longer staying in their lane. And it was time to burn the whole divine system to ash.
Rhiannan POV
The name was supposed to be the win.
The triumph.
The final fucking puzzle piece to bury the Forgotten King once and for all.
But instead… she'd lost him.
Azarion.
Her chaos. Her storm. Her divine match.
"Rhi....open the portal," Kaleb murmured, his voice strained as he wrapped a protective arm around her waist. "We need to get you home."
Her hands shook. The divine mark on her palm pulsed. Her magic crackled, too much grief, too much power, and it took everything in her to pull it together. She clenched her jaw, slammed her palm against the bloody earth, and ripped the portal open with a roar.
Silver light carved through the air.
The smell of dragonfire and steel drifted in.
And the courtyard of the new royal stronghold welcomed them home.
BOOM.
The second they landed, FaeNet erupted.
Thousands of comments exploded across the air as glowing text scrolled in wild loops overhead:
💬 "THEY GOT THE NAME!"
💬 "WHO TF WAS THAT CHAOS GOD?!"
💬 "Is he GONE?! DID HE DIE?!"
💬 "RIHANNAN IS SHAKING. WE'RE SHAKING."
💬 "THE VEIL IS BROKEN. SHIT IS BAD BAD."
Rune cameras floated in the sky, catching her every breath, blood on her gown, scratches down her arms, tears streaking her cheeks.
Her men were on her instantly. Arwen had her in his arms before she could speak, his grip bone deep. Kaleb pressed his forehead to hers. Elisha's hands trembled, trying to heal wounds she didn't feel. Sable stood like a shadow behind her, ready to kill the world. Liam… Liam just held her hand and let his tears fall with hers.
"I should've stopped him," she whispered.
"No," Arwen growled. "You couldn't have."
"He's not gone," Liam muttered. "He's Chaos. He won't be gone for long."
"I felt it," she snapped, rage tearing through her. "I felt the moment he disappeared. I felt the gods scream."
A tremor shook the courtyard as her grief rippled through the very magic of the castle.
Rebel soldiers backed away. Civilians stared wide eyed. Even Sasha, her AI, went silent for a beat before chiming with a rare, gentle voice,
"Azarion has not been deleted. He has simply… been moved off grid. For now."
Rhiannan's eyes blazed silver.
She stepped forward, her gown still torn from battle, her magic blazing in every breath.
"I swear to the moon and every divine," she said to the cameras now locked on her, voice raw but unbreakable, "we will bring him home. And the Forgotten King will regret the day he laid a finger on what's mine."
The crowd watching across the realms lost their minds.
💬 "OUR QUEEN IS PISSED."
💬 "RHIANNAN IS COMING FOR BLOOD."
💬"AZARION. HOLD ON. YOUR GODDESS IS COMING."
She turned toward her mates, eyes sharp despite the tears.
"Let's clean up," she muttered. "Because tomorrow… we prepare for the last side quest to find this Sceptre of Power, and then...fucking war."