Time Left: 0 Hours
The execution chamber was no chamber at all.
As Ryu and Luto stepped past the final gate of bone and memory, the divine mechanisms activated — humming like ancient war drums. Light twisted unnaturally. The cracked terrain beneath their feet split open, birthing a rising mirage — land forged not from matter, but memory.
A perfect illusion.
Terrosia.
The planet that once cradled them, now long lost, rose again before them — reborn in mimicry. Trees shimmered like glass, grass hummed beneath nonexistent wind, and the skies bled with colors they remembered from childhood. It was beautiful. It was wrong.
This was not home.
It was an execution ground wearing their childhood like a mask.
____
The Chainless Soldier
At the epicenter of that mirrored wasteland…
Stood Onyx.
Or rather — what remained.
Voidwrath.
His back faced them, framed by fractured light and silent winds. Long dreadlocks now brushed the back of his armor — a seamless obsidian carapace, engraved with ever-shifting runes that shimmered like fire behind a veil.
His eyes — once a noble violet — now glowed hollow. Deep. Endless.
And then—
Snap.
The divine chains that bound his arms and neck unraveled without force.
Not from struggle.
Not from rebellion.
But from permission.
The gods had enacted the final phase.
Their weapon… was off the leash.
____
"They… rebuilt it," Ryu whispered, glancing at the land as the hills glowed and twisted under divine influence.
Luto narrowed his gaze. "Not just rebuilt. They've weaponized our memories."
The lake where they once skipped stones now burned with silent flame.
The stargazing hill where they made promises as orphans? Turned to jagged obsidian teeth.
The small home where Onyx first cooked for them? Swallowed into a pit of collapsing memory.
The gods didn't just want to kill them.
They wanted to erase what made them.
_____
Onyx turned.
His movement was slow, like dragging himself through the weight of galaxies. His face, once filled with warmth, was a statue of silence. No hatred. No hope.
Just emptiness.
Then, faintly:
"…Ryu… Luto…"
Ryu stepped forward, grin subdued but sincere. "So they finally let you off the leash, huh, big bro?"
No reply.
Luto stepped beside him, eyes glowing with silver restraint. "He's bound by command layers. His mind's a battlefield."
Still no answer.
"Bro…" Ryu chuckled, trying to hide the emotion in his voice. "Your hair's wild. What, the void doesn't believe in haircuts anymore?"
Luto added dryly, "He always did like the brooding aesthetic."
Still, Onyx said nothing.
But his eyes twitched.
____
The Divine Watchers
Far above, in a realm bordering the Riven Dimension itself, three divine titans observed from a celestial vault stitched into space.
The Voice of Fate — her form veiled in starlight, too radiant to be seen clearly, her smile lazy and knowing.
The Voice of Order — carved from mathematical perfection, his very skin radiating structure and divine constraint.
And The Voice of Judgment — massive, scarred, seated on a throne of verdicts. The strongest combatant among the Seven Voices. His words were war.
"They've arrived," Fate cooed. "A shame. I quite liked the fire one's smile."
Order did not blink. "The void will cleanse them soon enough. All anomalies must be corrected."
Judgment leaned forward. "Let them bleed. Their story ends here."
Fate's grin widened. "Or begins anew."
_____
Varkal'Zir – The Gravemark of Oblivion
Onyx took a step forward… and summoned his weapon.
A tremor shook the landscape.
Varkal'Zir emerged from swirling void light — a colossus of a weapon made from Nythralite, a god-killing alloy forged in collapsed star cores at the edge of the multiverse.
Its base form: a staff-spear hybrid with a jagged crescent blade on one end and a gravity spike on the other. It warped light and sound as it moved.
Luto exhaled sharply. "That's it. That's the Gravemark. I read about it in the void incursion reports… It only responds to Onyx. If anyone else touched it—instant collapse."
Ryu cracked his neck. "Looks like a nightmare made out of 'don't mess with me.'"
Varkal'Zir hummed.
It was alive.
And hungry.
_____
Shifting Tension
Ryu raised his hand. "Hey! We didn't come here to throw hands right away! You remember us, right?"
Still nothing.
Only the slow, dragging pull of Onyx stepping forward.
Luto whispered, "This place is collapsing by design. If we fight too hard, we'll tear it all down."
"Then we better finish it before that happens," Ryu muttered.
Onyx stopped a few meters away. The atmosphere thickened like water around them. Then—
Shift.
The weapon twisted in Onyx's hand, becoming the Grave Pike — a brutal, double-edged void staff used to pin souls or anchor portals. His stance lowered.
No words.
Only war.
Luto summoned his blade — Nulvyr, its twin edges glowing with silent fury.
Ryu just smirked and pushed his bandana up.
"Guess there's only one way to know what you remember…"
The air around them snapped into distortion.
Ryu's body lit with flame.
Luto's eyes gleamed silver.
Onyx stood between them, still… and yet, colossal.
Then Ryu whispered:
"Let's dance, big bro."
_____
The First Clash
Void and flame collided.
Nulvyr met Gravemark.
And for a split second, Terrosia screamed.
Fragments of forgotten childhood memories burst in the skies above — a kite Onyx made from scraps, Luto's first laugh after a ruined meal, Ryu chasing fireflies barefoot…
Each memory flickered.
Each one at risk of being extinguished.
This wasn't just a battle.
It was a plea.
A test.
A war between love and erasure.
To Be Continued…