The Ecliptic Citadel stretched endlessly above them, towers of void-crystal gleaming like fractured stars. At the center, Lucien sat on his throne, pale eyes scanning the vast expanse as though observing all existence at once.
Before him knelt Thariel, the once-mighty Maw of Stars, now shrunken—figuratively, though still immense—by chains of void that hummed with inevitability.
"Your first task," Lucien said, voice faint but carrying across the Citadel, "is simple. Destroy the small Outer God encampment in Universe H-421. No hesitation, no rebellion. You will act under Malthior's command and Seraphyx's oversight. Fail, and… well, you know the consequences."
Thariel's form flickered nervously. "I… understand. I will obey."
Malthior stepped forward, armor glinting. "Remember, Thariel," he said, voice measured, knightly, "obedience is only one part of duty. I will guide you, but you must execute the plan. Hesitation is death."
Seraphyx emerged from shadow, sleek and precise. "And don't think I'll let you sneak around or fail quietly," she added, voice flat but carrying a razor edge. "I will personally ensure every misstep costs you. Understand?"
Thariel swallowed, void energy thrumming with residual pride. "Yes. I… I will not fail."
Lucien's lips twitched into a faint smirk. "Good. Don't make me have to watch you like a bored parent. I have better things to do."
The generals led Thariel to a dimensional portal that shimmered like liquid starlight. Lucien waved his hand lazily, and the portal stabilized, opening directly into Universe H-421.
"Remember," Lucien said, leaning back, "I expect results. Impress me, or your existence will become… abstract."
Thariel stepped forward, chains tightening slightly as he obeyed. Malthior followed, stance disciplined, guiding him through the first phase of the mission. Seraphyx flitted beside them, sharp eyes scanning for threats.
The universe itself seemed to quiver at Thariel's presence. The small Outer God encampment ahead was unaware of the storm about to descend. Soldiers readied weapons, constructs crackled with energy, and the air vibrated with anticipation.
"Begin," Lucien murmured. He didn't need to watch—he already felt the inevitability of Thariel's success, every action, every strike, every hesitation encoded in his awareness.
Malthior moved first, opening the attack with precision. Void-crystal strikes cut through the enemy ranks effortlessly, forcing formations to collapse. Thariel followed, massive arms crushing constructs, siphoning energy from the fallen soldiers. Seraphyx danced through the battlefield, silent and lethal, taking out commanders and dismantling the enemy's network with surgical precision.
Even now, Thariel faltered slightly, instinct warring with enforced obedience. A flash of arrogance—a flicker of old pride—threatened to break his control.
"Focus," Malthior barked calmly, a knight's discipline in every syllable. "You are no longer your own master. Move as I command."
Seraphyx added, voice flat but lethal: "And don't think I won't notice. You step out of line, and I'll make sure the next lesson is… unforgettable."
Thariel's form shuddered, then solidified. Chains hummed, binding him more tightly to the inevitable. His attacks became precise, effective, ruthless—but controlled. He destroyed what needed to be destroyed, spared nothing that could oppose him, and executed Malthior and Seraphyx's coordination flawlessly.
By the time the battlefield fell silent, the small Outer God encampment was in ruins. Soldiers were annihilated, commanders neutralized, energy constructs dissolved. Thariel knelt once, chains glowing faintly as Lucien's presence rippled across the universe like a quiet tide.
A faint smirk curved Lucien's lips. "Well," he said softly, "not bad. You survived the test without embarrassing yourself—or me. That's… promising."
Malthior clapped once on Thariel's shoulder, knightly approval in every movement. "Your first mission is complete. Maintain this discipline, and you may yet be useful."
Seraphyx circled, flicking a tendril of void energy toward him. "Don't get used to praise. Next time, I expect perfection. Or else."
Thariel bowed low. "I… will not fail again."
Lucien reclined back on his throne, smirking faintly as he observed the generals' minor bickering. "You two amuse me… but don't push it. I don't have the patience for both of you and the entire Outer God pantheon at the same time."
And somewhere in the silent void, Thariel realized: obedience to the Sole Exception was not punishment—it was survival, and perhaps… the only way to remain relevant in a universe ruled by inevitability.