Vorgarath greeted Eternal not with silence nor resistance, but with a scream—not from mouths, but from the planet itself. The winds howled with molten ash, lightning spiraled in every direction, and towering waves of frost collided with rivers of fire. The planet was alive, and it fought not out of loyalty… but instinct.

  As Eternal stepped into its atmosphere, entire mountain ranges rose up to crush him. Skyfall—massive stones falling like meteors—descended with divine velocity. Even Oblivion trembled in his grasp—not with fear, but anticipation. This was not a world made to host life. It was a weapon.

  Seraphine and Lunara flew behind him, their energy fields flaring to deflect elemental chaos. Lunara’s voice whispered beside him, “This world is untamed… wild. It does not fear us. It rejects us.”

  Seraphine’s eyes narrowed. “No. It dares us.”

  But Eternal didn’t flinch. He simply kept walking, every step turning the ground black. Fire lashed at him. Ice pierced him. Storms blinded him. And still, he walked.

  And then, the chaos paused.

  From the center of the planet’s violent heart, a figure emerged. Tall, armored in hardened magma and glacial crystal. His hair was a crown of flame and thunder. His eyes were white voids—no pupils, no soul. Yet his voice was calm, almost respectful.

  > “You are the one they fear,” the god said. “The World-Ender. The Star-Breaker. Eternal.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Eternal did not raise his axe.

  > “And you are?” he asked.

  > “Tarnis, God of Elemental Rage,” the figure replied. “But I have grown tired of rage.”

  Eternal’s eyes narrowed.

  Tarnis did not approach with hostility. Instead, he stood before the very storms he commanded and spoke plainly:

  > “I have fought your kind—gods, false prophets, kings of flame and stone. But none could tame this world. Yet you… you walk through it as if it were air. I have seen what you do. And I have come to a decision.”

  He dropped to one knee, the storms around him stilling for the first time in a millennium.

  > “Let me serve you.”

  ---

  Scene 2: Trial of Loyalty

  Eternal did not trust easily. The chaos of Vorgarath resumed almost immediately, this time targeting Tarnis as if the planet itself rejected his surrender.

  The ground split, trying to swallow him whole. Lightning cracked his body. Lava poured from the sky.

  Tarnis did not resist.

  > “Let the planet try. I have found something greater.”

  Eternal watched in silence. Lunara stepped forward, skeptical. “You could be lying. A spy for the remaining gods.”

  Seraphine read his aura with divine precision. “He’s not lying. But he’s afraid. Not of you, Eternal… but of himself. He knows he’s capable of betraying.”

  Tarnis stood again, bleeding power. “Then test me. Give me a command.”

  Eternal turned to the horizon, where the core of Vorgarath pulsed—a heart of elemental fury, a living source of the planet’s wrath.

  > “Destroy it,” Eternal said.

  Without hesitation, Tarnis raised his hands, and the storm obeyed him one last time. Ice, fire, thunder, and wind spiraled into one singular point—a spear of annihilation—and he cast it down. The ground split open. The planet howled one final time.

  The core exploded in silence, as if even the world knew its master had chosen a new allegiance.

  ---

  Scene 3: The Pact Sealed

  With the planet dying, the skies darkened. No sun, no light—only void.

  Tarnis knelt once more. “I give you my name, my power, and my storm.”

  Eternal raised Oblivion, not to kill—but to anoint. He touched Tarnis’ shoulder, and the axe burned with cosmic flame.

  > “Then rise, Tarnis. From this moment on, you are no longer a god. You are mine.”

  Seraphine stepped beside Eternal. “That’s ten.”

  Lunara smirked. “And they fall faster with every breath.”

  Eternal

  stared into the collapsing horizon. “Let them send their champions. I now command the storm.”