At the head sat Patriarch Tylor Narakava, a towering figure with skin like polished obsidian threaded with crimson lightning, long black hair streaming like a war banner, and eyes that were pure black voids with a single white dot capable of piercing souls.
Beside him lounged Matriarch Lirael Narakava, petite yet curvaceous, her white hair streaked with black, skin like flawless marble, and those same void-white eyes alight with mad glee. Her robes, woven from living blood-silk, shifted like liquid shadows, her beauty as dangerous as it was alluring.
Flanking them stood three Narakava elders—hulking Asuras with the same unhinged elegance, their auras thrumming with battle-lust.
To their left stood the Drakonfire Phoenix Clan—fiery, eternal beings of rebirth and conquest. Leading them was Patriarch Ignis Drakon, a towering phoenix-human hybrid with molten gold scales, wings of eternal flame, and eyes blazing like twin suns. Beside him, Matriarch Sola Drakon, her curvaceous form wreathed in solar plasma, golden hair cascading like streams of lava
And then… there was someone else, disguised as a humble scion.
Her multicolored wings folded neatly, mismatched eyes glinting with mischief, she lounged as if at a casual gathering.
This was Aurelia Sol.
No one knew her real identity—the Progenitor's own daughter—a truth kept secret for many reasons, not least because she held authority over all Phoenixes. The other Arch Eternal Clans? They weren't even close to their own progenitor, so how could they possibly know of others or their heirs?
Beside them loomed the Voidshadow Revenant Clan—undead void-beings reborn from the hearts of black holes. Patriarch Umbra Reven, a swirling mass of shadows with hollow, purple-glowing eyes and a voice like graveyard whispers, stood next to Matriarch Ebon Reven, a graceful shadow-wraith with skin like midnight velvet.
Two elders drifted nearby, their ghostly forms trailing wisps of darkness.
Then came the Aether Supreme Titan Clan—gem-forged titans born of storm and creation. Patriarch Thunderforge, a towering crystal giant with thundercloud veins and a booming, storm-like voice, stood with Matriarch Crystalveil, petite yet commanding, her diamond skin catching the light, eyes flashing with lightning.
Lastly, the Endless Seer Clan—time-walking prophets—appeared. Patriarch Temporal Echo, his crystalline body phasing through multiple timelines, spoke in layered whispers, while Matriarch Fateseer's steady gaze held galaxies of possible futures.
Tylor Narakava rose, void-white eyes sweeping over the gathering, his presence thudding in every chest like a war drum.
"Allies of Narakava," he boomed, his thunderous voice carrying a rich, resonant tone that made even fury sound like music.
Tall and imposing, his obsidian skin streaked with crimson lightning, black hair streaming like a war banner, those pale eyes cut through the assembled representatives.
"We gather for war. The Tyrannus Human Clan… they killed our crown princess Sandra 400,000 years ago. She's only just regained her full strength."
A heavy silence lingered before a wild grin split his face—white teeth sharp against dark skin, eyes alight with manic joy.
"Their debt is past due."
The allies erupted—not in solemn vows, but in raw, unrestrained laughter that rang through the Nexus like predators catching scent of prey. Madness answered madness; centuries of tension snapping in a shared, savage thrill.
The Phoenix Patriarch—Ignis Drakon, flames curling higher over his molten-gold scales—slammed a fist onto his armrest, his laugh deep and guttural.
"Haha! I was wondering when you maniacs would stir things up again! It's been too quiet—my wings are itching for some real burning."
Sola shook her head at her husband's outburst, solar-plasma hair flickering in amusement, though her eyes blazed just as hot.
"Count us in. Those tyrants have kept too many stellar forges to themselves. It's time they learned what true fire feels like."
Umbra Reven's shadows writhed with excitement, his whispery voice dripping with dark glee. "Heh... hollowing out human empires? I've waited eras for a feast like this."
Thunderforge's crystalline body rumbled with laughter like cracking thunder. "About damn time. My storms need new worlds to tear apart."
Fateseer's crystalline eyes rotated slowly, layered voices humming in eerie unison.
"The threads align... with delicious chaos."
Aurelia sat quietly with the Phoenix delegation, multicolored wings folded and mismatched eyes sparkling with mischief as she watched the chaos unfold like her own private entertainment.
'Isn't the Venia Galaxy part of one of their universes? Hmm…' Her eyes took on a golden gleam as she swept her gaze across the room, tapping into fate.
'So, the Universal Lord really is an Asura…' she mused, a sly grin curving her lips.
'This could get interesting…'
Tylor let out a deep, booming laugh that echoed through the Nexus as he strode into the open center, his allies already relaying orders down immense chains of command—universes mobilizing, galaxies shifting fleets, even the smallest worlds arming in desperate haste.
With a casual swipe of his hand, like swinging an invisible blade, space itself split apart.
A jagged rift ripped reality open, not to reveal a single world or realm, but an awe-inspiring sight of an entire universe: a massive demonic head—humanoid yet horned and fanged, its eyes closed in eternal slumber—trapped within a vast barrier of stark white void-energy, standing out against the endless black.
The allies leaned in, murmurs rippling through their ranks.
"He's really going to kick things off right now," Fateseer said, eyes spinning counterclockwise in a prophetic frenzy.
"And by doing what, exactly?" Umbra Reven asked, his shadows twitching like restless tendrils.
Before anyone could answer, Tylor moved.
His full Peak Cosmic Overlord power erupted—aura thick and deadly, the Nexus world trembling, platforms splintering as far-off stars sped toward unnatural collapse, light fading in his presence.
Feeling the neutral ground's arrays closing in, he stepped through the rift without pause.
On the other side, allies watched.
Lirael's eyes glittered with madness as she slowly licked her lips, stepping closer for a better view—though her gaze cut across any distance with ease.
"Fuck... I love when he's like this!" she exclaimed, voice husky with thrill, body leaning forward eagerly.
Tylor's voice thundered across the rift.
|Precept – Proclamation of Sovereign Extinction| |Extinction Verdict|
Stage 4 Precept kicked in—his aura crushing reality itself, so heavy and dense that far-off stars blinked out as extinction sped up.
He drew his arm back, a massive, pitch-black phantom fist forming above him, big enough to stretch across light-years, crimson veins glowing like channels of rage.
"By my decree... you will cease to exist."
He swung, the fist vanishing mid-motion—BOOOOOOOM!!!!! BOOOOOM!!!!!!
It slammed into the barrier, holding for a moment as cracks spread across the demonic head's face, then burst into a swirling red-black mist that slipped through like venom.
From a distance, it looked like harmless fog, but up close, it was made of endless, world-sized black-and-red needles, each one carrying pure extinction.
They tore through galaxy clusters first—skewering vast structures, stars collapsing without a sound, black holes forming and then winking out, spiral arms unraveling like loose thread.
Then came star systems—suns snuffed mid-burn, planets splitting apart as gravity failed, air bleeding away, civilizations erased without a sound. Worlds shattered—continents ripped up and pulverized, oceans boiled to steam and frozen to dust, life wiped out in waves, bodies crumbling to bone, then to dust, then to nothing.
By the end, half the universe was gone—whole regions reduced to empty void, no light, no matter, no trace—only cold silence where galaxies had been.
The demonic head's barrier split deeper, its eyes flickering open in distant pain.
The first sparks of war ignited. Allies watched, grinning wide.
The universe shook.