As Mardar found himself back within the command room, he shook off the last vestiges of chaotic power around him, holding on to a Runebearer to get his bearing, his sight swimming. A few seconds later he was snapping his fingers as an ascender spoke.

“Sectors 1 and 2 have fallen, barriers are holding at sectors three and on, no signs of the reaper, but powerful chaos creatures have been sighted at sectors 3 to 10, all defensive forces have been sent to said districts” the ascender reported.

“a.i, what is the status of our ammunition vaults?” he asked hoarsely.

He winced as he came down from the high of the amount of power he had used in the battle, breath rattling faintly as it took him a few seconds more to gain clarity. The a.i manifested, turning to him as she spoke.

“All rune enhanced ammunitions of the first circle are sitting at 60% capacity, rune-forged weapons at 50% capacity, and currently being distributed to all remaining sectors in the first circle” she reported.

Mardar nodded, bringing up his Hud as he contacted the other commander of the first circle as well, the head of the dragons’ brigade himself, Xerxes. Loud explosions could be heard in the background as Xerxes cursed.

“Not a good time scourge rune” he growled.

“Have you seen the reaper?” Mardar asked.

“What?” Xerxes said, grunting as clashes could be heard.

“Azael!, the reaper, have you seen him?” Mardar shouted this time.

Ranks be damned, the reaper was the main enemy, if he went missing right in the middle of the war, it could only mean he was up to no good. Xerxes paused for a few seconds before speaking.

“No reports are coming in, contact the aether blessed” he replied tersely before cutting the communication.

Mardar cursed quietly, Xerxes being spooked could only mean the brigade lord knew or had an idea of what the reapers’ goal was, and if Mardar’s suspicions were correct, then they were all dead. Snapping his fingers, he spoke.

“we’re pushing to the secondary relay point, set runic circles behind us, purification runes, we’ll go fortify sector 10” he commanded.

The ascenders snapping to attention, they began scrambling, making their way to the local pathway connector set up at the end of the room, Prometheans carrying the heavy materials along with them even as dim explosions could be heard in the distance. The pathway led to sectors 5 to 10 itself, the final point of the ten sectors that made up the first defense circle, the entire force materializing within a large crystalized room, glowing with pure aether.

Mardar moved forward, the Runebearer at his side as the assembled forces prepared for another defensive move, more Ijas and Prometheans taking up positions behind him.

“We fell faster than we should have,” the Runebearer said, the last arcane general moving up to Mardars’ other side.

“We had no choice, with Azael pushing us with the entirety of his forces, we’d be lucky to maintain the first ring for more than a few hours” Mardar replied.

“The prime messengers will fortify the first ring should the need arise” the arcane general added.

Mardar gave no reply to that statement, merely speaking in hushed whispers as runes coalesced around him, infusing themselves into the axe as it glowed and shimmered, transforming into a long spear. Its tip glowed blistering white with few embers of purple and gold, the aspect of the titan dimming gradually, reminding him that his edge against the forces of chaos was slowly diminishing. It wasn’t that the aspect of Lucirion, the aether blessed and the other powers did no damage to the aspect of chaos, they did, just on a surface level.

The aspect of the titan ensured that whatever limb they cut off didn’t regenerate, a complete death even for chaos itself. Mardar heard the rumblings of battle, the screams of ascenders as they fought and died, pure blistering power, abilities in their thousands, elements, arcane runes that killed ascenders who used them as a last-ditch effort to stem the tides of chaos and Mardar wept within himself as he joined the battle. As usual, he was a column of pure power, his spear releasing a lance of pure arcane runic energy that scorched the creatures of chaos limb from limb, eradicating them from existence.

The Runebearer and arcane general were devastating forces as well, their trio drawing the bulk of the creatures of darkness that overshadowed them like a solar eclipse, coming down on them with all the unraveling rage of pure cosmic power. Mardar clashed with it even as his armor hummed from the strain, dimly feeling the Prometheans joining them in battle, the blur of time coming back as they clashed again.

Again, Mardar met the head of the chaotic creatures in battle, a large humanoid form with flickering oily tail-like looking appendages behind its back that lashed at Mardar. Each strike on an unfortunate ascender completely unraveled them into nothingness, simply ceasing to exist, Mardar though, felt each bite on his armor like the scratch of metal on metal, biting back the revulsion. The arcane general was there, wielding three different sources of runes together in a mesh of power that washed over them, his eyes blazing with barely constrained power, Mardar biting down on his tongue to keep his mind clear.

The arcane working managed to scorch the creature to the point that it gave a loud unholy screech, its four oily arms undulating through the air as it went for the arcane general, completely freeing Mardar and Runebearer to strike its form. Mardar was suddenly above the creature, the Runebearer at his side as they came down hard on the creature, spear and two short blades from Mardar and the Runebearer respectively struck deep into the creature, ending its existence. As the creature burnt to non-existence, the last aspect of the titan eradicating it completely, Mardar stared at the impaled body of the arcane general, glossy eyes webbing with veins of oily darkness that ate him from the inside.

Mardar watched the Prometheans surround them in a circle, keeping the worst of the chaos creatures from them even as the realm of Mardar became a one-man barrier of pure obliteration, buying them time. The arcane general coughed black oily blood, smiling as he uttered his final words.

"For the Archailect,” he said as he lit up in red flames, his path burning him up completely before the power of chaos claimed him.

It was a merciful gift from Lotes, to ensure those sworn to her didn’t watch themselves become pawns for another power. Mardar grasped a piece of the ash, as he shut his eyes, breathing calmly, standing up, he spoke again watching the large Prometheans bearing the box containing the crystals of pure Archailect aspect settle behind him, within the circle of Prometheans that benefited from the realm of Mardar.

“We push on, the relay point is just ahead, as soon as we clear the rubble from this place” he growled.

Mardar was the first out of the circle, spear now an axe back as he raged, his aspect blasting out along with those of the aether blessed and the Runebearer. He was a terrible sight to see, unleashing his anger on the rabbles of chaotic powers that fell back from his onslaught, he cared not if they would reform later on somewhere else, let them come, in their hundreds, in their thousands, he cared not, he would make them pay, for all they had taken from him, they would pay in their thousands.

They made short work of the creatures, passing through the large Divinium forged gates that opened up with their arrival, the sentries atop the door shouting to the defending forces behind the door to open up. A ragged-looking Mardar made his way into the last bastion protecting the first circle from the second circle, staring at the thousands of brigade ascenders stared at him with wide eyes, watching as he gripped his axe in a vice-like grip, he and what remained of his forces.

Out of the ten thousand ascenders taken from all the forces of the factions protecting the last citadel, the ten thousand who had protected the first five sectors of the first circle, only five hundred were left.

***********************

Azael stepped foot within the first circle, his skeletal form floating a few meters from the ground as he touched the Divinium itself, sighing with pleasure.

“I consecrate this ground, in the name of Apophis,” he said.

He felt the echo of the power that once fueled the divine metal itself seek to repulse such desecration, he could even feel the very existence that commanded the circle itself attempt to expel him, gathering its powers in a mockery of an attack, at least, that was how Azael saw it. A large creature at his side moved, towering at nine feet, all inflated muscles and sharp bone protrusions jutting from its body moving in front of him. Its horrifying visage revealed its black inky eyes as it gave a loud bellow, stamping its feet in rage as its vibrations went through the entirety of the first circle.

The first circle retaliated, raw power lancing through the creature, eradicating it from existence as Azael chuckled, watching as clumps of burnt and scorched flesh tumbled to the ground around him.

And it was done, the presence fleeing so deep into the first circle that Azael felt nothing again, the Divinium devoid of any power. The two other figures behind him moved to his side, going to their knees, their featureless faces bowed, they along with the burnt clumps of flesh that wriggled and began to reattach to themselves were literal extensions of his power, imbued with a significant portion.

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It was the only way to go beneath the notices of the powers of the Archailect that watched for him, a move beneath him, but if reducing his strength to the approximate of a peak ancient was what allowed him to enjoy the show, then so be it.

Their third brethren reformed, a black rune glowing atop its head, the other two glowing as well.

Rage, wrath, end.

The three sub-aspects of chaos he had let go into those shell forms with the semblance of life, perhaps it was why he seemed so calm, it really helped change his view about the invasion of the final citadel. From here, he could see the towering spires of the citadel itself, its lights gleaming even as its barriers shimmered from the pure aspects that fueled it, and atop its pinnacle, two beings stood, waiting his arrival.

He chuckled at the thought, at least, one was wrapped in her serpentine form, white and gold scales glittering even as he knew she could feel him, he could never escape the gaze of the cosmic dragon after all.

He wasn’t too sure of the aether blessed though, that one had always been a sneaky one, moving behind the lines to set up things for his benefactor, Lotes herself. He could also sense the harbingers, waiting in the third circle, knowing that one way or the other, he would make his way to them.

With the titan blade behind him, no doubt licking his wounds along with the other primordials, they would be rejoicing when they realized Martha had duped him of the rune of mutation. It didn’t matter at this point, with the citadels’ fall would come the end of the Archailect, then, not even the anathema could protect anyone from the wrath of the true being of existence itself, Apophis.

With the Runebearer dead as well, there was no way for the titan blade to make his way with whatever backup they could bring to come relieve the citadel. Yet, Azael felt a suspicion that he was missing something, and if he did, it was something Apophis couldn’t feel as well, so it was nothing befitting the lord of oblivion himself. He moved quietly, a tiny minuscule of his forces behind him, seeing as he could no longer quantify them any longer, the infinite forces of chaos itself his army. Moving to the end of the first sector, he spoke gently.

“rage” he called.

The large humanoid abomination that had placed itself in the path of the attack of the circle itself thundered forwards, breathing shakily as its very name caused it to spasm in barely constrained anger. Azael smiled.

“Go, lead the way for me” he commanded.

It gave a loud bellow, its bone protrusions elongating as they began wrapping around its form, blasphemous runes that spoke of the death of all things through rage moving around the bones. When it completed its transformation, it was a hulking figure with bone armor, only its black oily eyes glowed underneath all the white and black runic inscribed runes. Azael nodded.

“Good, bring back the bodies of their leaders” Azael commanded.

It gave a rough bow and then crashed through the husk of a Divinium door, giving a loud roar that echoed through the sectors, the forces of Azael behind it.

********************

Mardar and Xerxes felt the entire circle shudder from such a loud roar that it ran through their bodies. It was an almost impossible thought, and yet, they felt the pure wrath from the presence.

“The reaper?” Mardar said with wide eyes.

“no,” Xerxes said, the lord of the brigade staring at the large Divinium door with concentration.

“Something strong, strong enough to rival the ancients” he added.

Mardar glanced around at the remaining forces of the first circle, his five hundred with the two thousand plus of Xerxes, made up of mostly brigadiers and jades. He moved to his feet, nodding at the Prometheans who dropped their load, the very construct holding the crystalized aspects of the supreme beings within its grasp.

“a.i, connect the crystal construct to the entire final sector” Mardar commanded.

“compliance” the voice of the a.i came from around them.

“I must warn you that the reaper has stepped foot in the first sector and has sent what I assume as one of his generals with more than a thousand lifeforms to besiege your current location,” the a.i said.

“All power has been diverted to this very location along with all defensive resources, as of this moment, the tenth sector is the only defensible sector left of the first circle” she added.

“Can you destroy the other sectors?” Xerxes asked.

“Impossible, the Divinium has been corrupted by the reaper, to destroy them, each sector would need to be purged of the aspect of the reaper itself to allow me to attain functionality.” She reported.

“And so, we gave the reaper a staging point, great,” the Runebearer beside Mardar said with a hiss.

Mardar closed his eyes, kneeling as he began whispering, runes flickering to life around him, the construct holding the crystals powering to life as it flushed the entire sector with pure aether, a combination of all the prime aspects of the Archailect into one. A shiver of power ran through Mardar as the runes began to seep into the walls themselves, the rest flowing into the Divinium gates, the Promethean suits of the ascenders that wore them pulsing stronger. Xerxes raised his hand up, a flaming blade appearing within it, its power bathing the room in the pure power of Lotes.

The thundering grew stronger and stronger, the presence of chaos encroaching even more as the room they waited within pulsed with that of the Archailect. The Runebearers awaited the creature and its hosts, the jades with blistering cold runes that could wreak damage upon even a creature of chaos. And yet, Mardar and Xerxes found themselves moving forward together, already realizing the gravity of the presence coming.

It was the reaper and it wasn’t, like a fraction of his presence melded into something so terrible that it was unexplainable.

“Realms!” Xerxes roared.

Overlapping realms bloomed into existence among the forces, the room growing ever larger with the power that thrummed within it. Mardar gripped his axe tighter, feeling the moment the creature reached the main gates, feeling the wall cannons open up as the ascenders atop screamed their Defiance to the steel ceilings above. They knew they wouldn’t survive the encounter, and yet, they gave their lives to halt the forces that assaulted them for even a brief few seconds.

Mardar saw the creatures that took them down, oily-looking things with bat-like wings and a mouth filled with circular rows of rotating teeth, buzzing in their hundreds as they clashed with the ascenders. The Prometheans opened up on the cannon towers themselves, aware that whatever ascenders were there were most probably dead at that point, flashes of pure intent and mana attacks fueled by the complete aspects of the Archailect tearing into the creatures themselves.

When the smoke cleared, oily charred flesh dripped down the towers, and then a crash into the great gates, Mardar whipping his head to the gate in shock. The runic inscriptions he had infused into the gates themselves had half of their numbers shattered all at once, gripping his axe tighter he spoke.

“All ascenders, retreat to the pathway, Prometheans and Ijas, forwards, prepare yourselves,” he said.

Xerxes didn’t second guess his commands, no doubt feeling it as well.

“We might as well be fighting the reaper himself, just a more brutish version,” he said as Mardar nodded.

Another slam and the remaining runes burnt themselves in their quest to end whatever was on the other side, it crashed through, the creature wrapped in bones that screamed with runes of chaos, assaulting all realms at the same time. Xerxes unleashed his power at that moment, drawing his blade as he slashed in one go, clashing with the creature, Mardar twisting to appear at the other side of the creature.

“INCINERATE”

“PURIFY”

Both commanders called on their aspects, tearing space and time into a tiny black hole that contained the trio, removing the creature from the fight itself. It had been what they were after and with the creature out of the way, they could leave the rest for their forces to handle or go down holding the fort.

The black hole crushed the creature from all sides, Mardars’ axe edges blistering with raw runic power, twisting around him in blue, red, and white waves of raw aspect as he clashed with the creature, gritting his teeth as Xerxes joined as well, trading seismic blows that would have shifted the very pulls of planets, Mardar was sure of that, his armor cracking was a sign of such.

Xerxes was a flaming inferno, spiritual form crashing down on the creature that grabbed both of them despite their aspects wreaking havoc on its physical form, its raw shaking them even as Mardar spat blood from its mere roar.

Xerxes was there, his blade, lit on fire like a column of explosive raw wrath of a supreme being given form, tearing at the creature. It grabbed the blade, even as its hand exploded, it dragged the blade, drawing Xerxes along with him in a quest to get its other hand on the brigade leader.

Mardar was there, stars appearing around him in circles as they hummed, his eyes blistering white with power as he channeled the aspect of the aether blessed in a rage of pure wrath, realizing what the creature was.

“BE GONE!” Mardar commanded, making it an edict.

The black hole cracked, its pressure pushing down on the creature along, their attacks blitzing across by the seconds even as the creature fought back, its roars shattering his edict and commands, pushing back their aspects as well despite the raw power they brought down on it. Xerxes moved, his very form now fire, liquid flames flowing through his veins as he allowed the aspect of the supreme being he followed to take control of his form.

Wings of pure aether flames sprung up behind him, in their pure majesty they took up the near-infinite space of the black hole as they shot around. The creature paused, chuckled, and spoke, not with the voice of a wrathful creature but with the calm bespoken voice of the reaper himself.

“Perfect,” it said.

That very word was an affront, the aspect of Lucirion retaliating in rage, Xerxes raising his broken blade as he brought it crashing down the moment the creature moved as well. The attacks clashed as one, a pinprick of white and black light swirling together in a miasma of energies that looked as close to a yin and yang work as possible.

When it exploded, it tossed the bodies of the scourge rune and the brigade leader in heaps on the ground, far within the lines of their own forces, the black hole exploding as it wreaked the last sector of the first circle.

“HOLD!” a voice thundered.

The creatures of chaos that stood, those that remained either way went up in an inferno of pure flames as a large burning angel appeared. Ishum, prime messenger of Lotes, holding the last sector together, with pure willpower and authority, gripping the bodies of Mardar and Xerxes, both missing parts of their bodies. Mardar with one eye socket missing and sizzling while Xerxes missing a whole half of his skin, his body sizzling as well.

What was more surprising was the creature with the rune of wrath on its skull stepping out of the wreckage, its torn and charred body healing as it stared up at the prime messenger who held what remained of their forces aloft in the burning wreck of the first circle, thousands of large vessels behind the prime, weapons primed right at the creature. The darkness that had been spreading appeared behind the creature, continuing its ravenous consumption of reality itself, and from that darkness stepped out Azael, the reaper, and true Chaosborne.

He stared at the prime, watching as the forces of the Archailect retreated to the next circle, watched as their barriers slammed into place again, and watched as the cosmic dragon and aether blessed watched him also in silence. Then the aether blessed spoke and Azael moved in a blink, putting distance between himself and the personification of wrath, wrapping his realm around himself so tightly that when the attack came, it merely burnt his skin, the reaper cursing at the pure power of the aether blessed.

He unwrapped himself immediately, watching as the spiritual form of the aether blessed fizzled away, Azael staring with hatred-filled eyes at the powers in the distance.

“One circle down!” Azael thundered into the wide expanse of space.

“two more circles, and then I’m at the doors of your supreme beings!, your brigade leader is close to death’s doors, and so is your prodigy Lucirion, who falls next?” Azael asked, his laughter echoing impossibly in the void of space.

“who’s next?” he said.