"It would seem that history doth repeat itself."
Tundra floated high above the ground, arms folded, a confident smile on his face as he hovered thousands of feet in the air. The boundless expanse of the divine meeting chamber stretched infinitely around them, now transformed into the perfect battlefield for a clash between gods. His wings were unfurled but still, unused, as he remained suspended effortlessly.
"Once again," he continued, eyes locked forward, "ye stand in our way... all for the sake of mortality."
"And once again... you will be stopped," came the calm, resolute voice of Siege, who hovered directly across from him.
The two gods faced one another in the empty expanse, no others in sight. Tension thickened in the silence between them, both battle-ready. But after Siege's words, Tundra suddenly let out a sharp laugh.
"Oh, please," he scoffed. "Dost thou truly believe thou canst stop us?"
"What I believe matters not," Siege replied. "I will fight until I have fallen."
Tundra's smile curled with intrigue. The unwavering resolve in Siege's voice caught him off guard. "It doth seem the ages have deluded thy minds," he mused, before drifting slightly closer, his voice quieter but laced with disdain. "Which reminds me. The half-mortal from earlier. Thou hast one of thine own, dost thou not?"
Siege didn't answer, his expression unchanged. Tundra sighed and shook his head, clearly amused.
"Ye have brought shame upon divinity," he said coldly. "Yet in the name of Father... thy sacrilege shall not go unpunished."
Rage flickered in Siege's eyes. Without hesitation, he raised his right hand and tore open the space before him. Reaching into the rift, he withdrew a sleek, jet-black longsword from the Divine Arsenal, the weapon humming with quiet menace.
"It appears I need to carve that smug grin off your face before my demise," he growled, his eyes locked on Tundra.
Tundra's smirk wavered, but only for a second. With a stretch of his left hand, the air before him began to freeze, thick frost condensing rapidly until a weapon began to form from the tip to the hilt: a knight's sword, forged entirely from ice.
"I would like to see you try," Tundra replied, gripping the icy blade. "Let us behold what strength a third-generation defect may muster against Tundra the Arctic."
Several miles away, Sol and Tempest exchanged blows high in the sky, their fists colliding with blinding speed. After a few intense strikes, they separated for a brief moment, hovering as they caught their breath.
"Thy resistance to thy demise confuses me," Tempest said, irritation flickering in his eyes. "Why cast away thy life for these creatures?"
"Why defend a being bent on destroying everything he touches?" Sol replied, his tone calm and measured.
Tempest tilted his head slightly, puzzled. "Father gave us life."
"He gave us suffering," Sol snapped. "A life spent watching our creations die is no life worth living."
"Why should I hold concern for that which lieth beyond mine power?" Tempest asked, his voice hollow and flat.
Sol clenched his jaw but calmed himself. "Stand down and do not oppose me. I do not want to harm you."
Tempest blinked, his confusion growing. "We art under Father's protection," he said calmly. "What leadeth thee to believe thou canst harm me?"
"You underestimate how far I am willing to go to protect these mortals," Sol said, his stance tightening again. "And you overestimate how much Father actually cares for you."
"Speaking with thee serveth no further purpose," Tempest muttered, stepping back into his own stance.
Sol let out a slow breath, his expression hardening. "You were always the most agitating," he said under his breath before launching himself forward, vanishing in a blur as the battle resumed.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the infinite space, Abyss and Tremor stood grounded, facing each other in silence. Their expressions were still, the tension thick. Tremor stood with his arms folded, his gaze laced with quiet contempt. Abyss mirrored his stance, but the silence gradually wore on him.
"Are you going to address anything?" Abyss finally asked.
"No," Tremor answered flatly, his deep voice evident in his tone. "A waste of time."
Abyss sighed. "These are my final hours, and I get to spend them with Tremor the Seismic," he muttered with frustration. "How did I get so lucky?"
With that, Abyss shifted into a battle stance, eyes narrowing at his opponent. Tremor scoffed at the gesture, clearly amused.
Abyss noticed and eased his posture slightly, confused. "Are you not going to fight?" he asked.
"No," Tremor said again. "Too easy."
Shortly, Tremor raised his right hand, and the ground began to quake. Almost immediately, two massive stone figures slowly rose from the earth before him, their armor a fusion of rock and steel. Each held a heavy sword, and with a signal, both charged toward Abyss.
"This shall suffice," Tremor said coldly, dismissing his opponent.
Abyss's gaze sharpened in anger, recognizing Tremor's challenge to him. "We shall see about that," he said, shifting from his battle-ready stance, raising his right hand as well. "You are clearly unfamiliar... with the true horrors of the abyss."
Klaus and Shade stood before the gods of Passive and Aggressive Order: Halo and Horns.
Horns looked over at the pair, intrigued by the alarm written across their faces. "What brings you two here in such haste?" he asked, clearly unaware of the gravity of the situation.
"The End has returned," Klaus said bluntly.
Both gods immediately shifted in their seats, the shock in their eyes unmistakable.
"Impossible," Halo muttered.
"Are you certain of what you're saying?" Horns asked, trying to remain composed.
"It's true," Shade confirmed from beside Klaus.
He quickly explained everything to the gods of Order, from what they had witnessed in the meeting room, to their current mission: to head to Under World and alert Nekro.
"I can feel it," Halo said quietly, his eyes narrowing as he looked off to the side. "It is buried deep and concealed well… but I can still perceive his presence. This is no jest."
Horns' expression grew grave. He understood now why the brothers had come. "And I assume you now seek our counsel on what to do next, and how best to confront this threat?"
"I don't even know if survival is possible," Klaus admitted. "Honestly, I'm still shocked we haven't been wiped out already. But if there's even the slightest hope… I know it has to come from the two of you."
Halo and Horns exchanged a look before turning back to them.
"To be frank, there is no hope of victory," Halo said. "No god who understands the true power of The End would ever tell you otherwise... including us."
"But," Horns interjected, "that doesn't mean you don't try. Even if the odds are meaningless, you fight for your existence. That alone is worth something."
Halo exhaled sharply. "Though I imagine you already knew that."
Klaus remained quiet. He had already suspected there was no real hope, but hearing it confirmed by the very gods tasked with maintaining order made it feel final. Still, just as that despair began to take root, Shade's eyes lit with realization.
"I have a question," he said, drawing everyone's attention. "Is it possible that Lord Flage is still alive?"
Klaus understood immediately what his brother was getting at. He turned to the gods, awaiting their answer.
The two gods of Order paused before Horns responded. "His presence still lingers in his pocket realm: Zero World. It appears he was not summoned to the meeting, likely because he is no longer part of the pantheon."
"VI told me he could no longer access the coordinates to that world," Shade revealed. "But I'm guessing that wouldn't be the case for you two?"
"You are correct," Horns said.
"Then maybe we can alert him and ask for his assistance?" Shade suggested.
"I fail to see how that would help," Halo said. "The aid of another god makes no difference against The End."
"I understand," Shade replied. "But this world belongs to him, too. He should have the right to defend it if he chooses to."
"I… do not know if Flage still sees this world as his anymore," Horns said calmly. "And I know you understand that as well, Shade Walker."
Shade remained silent, knowing that Horns was right.
"If we're already doomed," Klaus interjected, his voice level, "then there's no reason not to try convincing him."
A heavy silence followed before Horns finally spoke. "I suppose that is true," he said. "We will give you the coordinates now."
Soon, Halo and Horns raised their hands in unison, and in the blink of an eye, the coordinates to Zero World were etched directly into the minds of Klaus and Shade.
"We better get going," Klaus said, turning to Shade.
Shade nodded, and the two began heading for the exit. But just as they reached the door, Halo's voice rang out behind them.
"Wait."
Both brothers paused and turned back.
"There is essentially nothing that can be done to stop The End," Halo admitted, "but… there is one final measure that could aid you in your endeavors, should the need arise."
Horns turned to Halo, for the first time in surprise, unaware of what his counterpart was referring to. But Halo's glance made it clear: whatever he was about to share would be critical.
Meanwhile, back in the vast meeting room, Siege and Tundra clashed violently, their blades meeting with raw intensity. The air pulsed with power as the two gods exchanged swings, their movements precise and deliberate. Tundra's prowess in swordsmanship was undeniable, matching Siege as the battle continued evenly.
Siege's focus was unshakable, but Tundra's strength was also relentless.
As their swords collided again in a grinding contest of strength, a sudden shift occurred. Siege's blade began to freeze over, delicate cracks spreading along its length as it turned brittle under the frost. Before he could react, the sword shattered with the next impact, giving Tundra the perfect opening.
With a swift strike, Tundra slashed across Siege's chest. The icy blade tore through armor, but thanks to Siege's quick reaction and the durability of his divine plating, the wound was reduced to a shallow cut across his left side.
Grimacing, Siege pressed a palm against the injury, clearly frustrated.
Tundra smirked and relaxed his stance slightly. "What hath happened to all that bravado?" he teased.
Siege met his opponent's gaze before exhaling as he soon eased his stance. "All I needed was a reminder of who I am fighting," he said coolly. "Now I can fight like I mean it."
After his words, Siege extended his right hand. But this time, instead of forcefully pulling a weapon from the Divine Arsenal, he allowed one to manifest naturally in his palm.
"Shatter those who defy thee... O Enforcer," he suddenly whispered, his voice low and deadly, his eyes locked onto his foe.
Tundra's smile faded slightly as he watched a massive weapon take shape. A colossal double-bladed battle axe formed, gleaming silver with black edges and intricate dark designs etched into the metal. Towering nearly nine feet tall, the weapon gave a formidable presence as Siege gripped it with both hands.
Tundra could sense immediately that this was no ordinary weapon. But rather than falter, his grin returned. He raised his own ice-crafted sword, shifted into position, and without hesitation, charged straight at Siege once more.