The world was ending.
The sky cracked like shattered glass.
The seas boiled.
The mountains burned.
At the center of the ruin, atop the blackened Heart of Azarath —
two figures faced each other.
The King of Oblivion.
And Max.
---
Max was changed.
He stood tall, battered, burned —
but his black demon markings glowed with radiant light now.
Not just rage.
Not just fury.
Balance.
In his hands he carried a new weapon —
the Blade of Fivefold Dawn reforged, reborn, transcended:
The Katana of Origin.
A slender, graceful weapon —
its blade shifting colors with every breath:
Red of Fire.
Blue of Water.
Brown of Earth.
White of Wind.
Gold of Light.
Violet of Darkness.
Silver of Ice.
Black of Storm.
All eight elements, bound to his soul.
---
The King of Oblivion was vast —
a thing not made for human eyes, a mass of twisted crowns and broken stars.
His voice echoed in every corner of Max's mind.
"You are alone, little Key."
"Your friends cannot save you now."
"You are already broken. Yield — and I will remake the world in your name."
---
Max closed his eyes.
He saw their faces.
Talon, who had nearly died to pull him back from madness.
Aria, Luna, Dante, Mira, Sylas —
his resurrected family, born from the Seven Doors.
He thought of the world they all still believed in.
A future he hadn't yet seen.
Max opened his eyes.
They burned with silver fire.
"I'm not alone," he said.
"And you're done speaking."
---
The final battle began.
---
It was not a clash.
It was a cataclysm.
The Katana of Origin moved faster than thought —
slicing through mountains, splitting oceans, carving storms into the sky.
Max became a force of nature:
Firestorms howled at his command.
Rivers lifted into the sky, frozen into spears.
Earth exploded upward to shield his wounded body.
Winds spun into blades that danced with him.
Light burned through the King's darkness.
Darkness swallowed the King's light in turn.
Ice locked ancient magic in chains.
Storms obeyed his rage — but also his hope.
Each strike cost him blood.
Each step cost him breath.
But Max refused to fall.
---
The King of Oblivion raged, shifting forms —
now a towering giant, now a black dragon, now a storm of a thousand screaming faces.
But it didn't matter.
Max pressed forward.
Cutting.
Burning.
Breaking.
---
Finally, after what felt like the death of a thousand worlds,
Max struck true.
With a final roar, he plunged the Katana of Origin through the King's heart.
The blade sang —
a song of beginnings, not endings.
The King screamed, not in rage — but in fear.
And with a shudder that cracked the bones of reality itself —
the King of Oblivion died.
---
The Heart of Azarath exploded in light.
The seven resurrected warriors shielded themselves as the blast tore across the world.
And when the light faded —
when the dust finally settled —
Max stood alone at the center of the crater.
---
He was dying.
The Katana of Origin shattered in his hands, dissolving into stardust.
His body was broken beyond healing —
bleeding light, barely held together by will.
He fell to one knee.
---
The others ran to him, screaming his name.
Talon caught him before he hit the ground fully.
"Stay with us," Talon said, voice raw.
"You saved us," Aria sobbed, pressing her forehead to his shoulder.
"You saved the world," whispered Luna.
---
Max smiled weakly.
"It was never about saving the world," he rasped.
"It was about saving... all of you."
---
His heart faltered.
His breath slowed.
The demon marks on his skin faded, leaving only old scars.
The eight elements wept for him —
rain fell, fire flickered low, winds whispered songs of mourning.
The Doors of Azarath, now silent, closed forever behind him.
---
Max's last thought was simple:
I'm... finally... free.
And then —
darkness.
---
[End of the Seven Doors of Azarath.]
Final scene after the ending?
A tiny spark glows in the crater where Max fell.
A voice, ancient and gentle, whispers:
"Not yet, Doorwalker."
"Your story is not finished."
"A war of gods is coming"
To be continue