> "When mortals pray to gods, they seek salvation. When gods pray to silence, they fear Chaos."
The battlefield was quiet.
Too quiet.
Ash drifted through the air like snow. The blood of angels had painted the ground gold, and the corpses of demons smoked where they fell.
Chaos stood in the center, unmoving, surrounded by the aftermath of his own storm. His armor cracked and glowed faintly, as if molten fire burned beneath his skin.
The Core inside him pulsed erratically.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Each beat shook the air. Each one louder, heavier, hungrier.
He fell to one knee, clutching his chest. "Enough…"
> "You cannot stop this," the Core hissed. "You opened the gate. Now the gate opens you."
"I control you," Chaos growled.
> "Do you?"
Suddenly, the world around him shifted — the ground splitting into a spiraling abyss of fire and shadow. The sky above twisted, torn apart by unseen hands.
He was falling — not physically, but deeper into his own power.
---
He landed in darkness.
Not the absence of light — but something deeper. Older.
All around him stretched a void filled with whispers, echoes of dying stars and forgotten souls.
He saw visions — countless realities burning, collapsing, reborn again. He saw himself in each one: a warrior, a monster, a god, a void.
"Where… am I?"
> "Home," the Core whispered. "The place where gods were born and devoured."
From the blackness, shapes emerged — massive, formless beings of smoke and light. Their voices thundered in unison.
> "You are the vessel."
"You are the error."
"You are the answer."
Chaos frowned. "Show yourselves."
And they did.
Dozens of Primordials — entities older than creation itself — surrounded him. Their eyes were galaxies; their words were laws of existence.
> "We are what came before gods. Before life. Before order."
"We are the Silence."
Chaos felt the Core tremble.
> "They are my creators," it whispered. "And they are afraid."
He smirked. "Afraid? Of what?"
The void shuddered.
> "Of you."
---
One of the Primordials — a colossal figure made of light — leaned closer.
> "You wield our fragment, mortal. That power is not yours to claim."
Chaos laughed — a deep, thunderous sound that echoed across eternity.
"Not mine to claim? You left it behind. You abandoned the world. You let the gods rise and rot everything they touched."
He spread his arms. "Now, I'll finish what you couldn't."
The Core roared, energy bursting outward. Reality itself cracked, light and shadow colliding violently.
The Primordials screamed — a sound like a universe dying.
> "STOP!"
But it was too late. Chaos had already stepped beyond them.
His body burned — not with flame, but with existence itself. His veins became rivers of energy; his skin, a shifting pattern of stars.
> "You were never meant to ascend," the Core said.
"And yet… here you are."
Chaos looked down at his hands — glowing, divine, infinite.
"Then I'll make my own divinity."
He closed his eyes.
And the Core merged completely.
---
Back in the mortal world, storms of fire erupted across continents. Oceans turned black. The sky bled.
Every being — mortal, angel, demon — felt it.
The sudden, undeniable pressure.
A new god being born.
In the ruined citadel, Morrath fell to his knees. "My king… what are you becoming?"
Above him, the heavens cracked open like glass.
From the fissures, golden armies poured — millions of angels descending to end the abomination before it took form.
But it was already too late.
From the epicenter of the storm, a figure emerged — towering, radiant in darkness. His eyes burned white-hot, his wings stretching across the sky like eclipses.
It was Chaos — but not the same man anymore.
No armor. No blade. Just pure, living power.
---
The Archangel Commander screamed, "ALL FORCES — STRIKE NOW!"
Tens of thousands of beams of divine light fell from the sky, converging on him.
Chaos raised a hand.
And stopped it all.
The light froze mid-air. The world itself paused. Even time hesitated.
"Pathetic," Chaos whispered. His voice rippled across reality. "You call yourselves divine?"
He clenched his fist — and the light shattered like glass.
Every angel disintegrated in silence.
Below, his armies of shadow watched in awe and terror. Even the Core — now one with him — was silent.
For the first time in eternity, the heavens had no answer.
---
In the shattered skies, the last remaining god spoke — his voice trembling.
> "You've become what you hated."
Chaos looked upward. "No," he said softly. "I've become what you feared."
He extended his arm, and the light of that god began to fade, piece by piece.
The god screamed. The stars dimmed.
And then, there was only shadow.
---
Silence.
The world was reborn in darkness — but not chaos. Order emerged again, new and absolute.
Mountains reformed. Rivers flowed with crimson light. Skies burned but did not fall.
In the center of it all stood Chaos, serene, infinite.
> "You've done it," the Core whispered. "You've become everything."
"No," Chaos replied, his voice calm, divine. "I've become the balance you destroyed."
He looked down at the new world — a fusion of heaven, hell, and mortal realm — one kingdom beneath his will.
"For too long, light ruled without question," he said. "For too long, dark was condemned without understanding."
He raised his hand, and the horizon shifted — half day, half night.
"Now, there will be balance."
The wind carried his final words across eternity:
> "There are no gods anymore. Only me."