The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order

Azazel's composure faltered. His hands trembled ever so slightly, his mind struggling to process what had just unfolded before him. Only moments ago, the difference in numbers had been ten to five—an overwhelming advantage for the Imperium of Time. Now, in an instant, that advantage had collapsed. Ten to nine.

"Hmph," Legion snarled, his voice rumbling like a nightmare given sound. "None of those ants can compare to me."

Though Legion was a grotesque amalgamation of malice, darkness, and the festering thoughts of long-dead gods, he was no fool. He knew that morale could sway battles as surely as strength. His words, dripping with arrogance, rippled through the Imperium's forces. The grim scowls on their faces shifted into cruel, confident smiles.

Yes, the enemy had clawed their way closer in numbers, evoking war avatars that balanced the scales. But it didn't matter. Among them stood Legion—a Peak Archdeity, once an Alpha-Omega Overgod. Alone, he was devastation incarnate. If unleashed, he would rampage through the Scarlet Kingdom's forces, turning their hope into ash and their loyalty into corpses.

Cain turned his gaze upon the eldritch abomination. A look of pure disdain spread across his face.

"You," Cain said, his voice sharp as a blade, "an entity more than a billion years old—spawned from the festering psychic refuse of generations of Alpha-Omega Overgods—have the gall to strut as if you are mighty, simply because you are stronger than some Archdeities? What a joke."

Legion's eyes widened, his monstrous jaw tightening with fury. Before he could respond, Cain's expression shifted. His smile returned—not cold this time, but bright, almost juvenile in its mischief.

"But don't worry," Cain continued. "I've found the perfect opponent for you."

The words hung in the air, strange and ominous. The ArchDeities frowned. Azazel's brow furrowed. Even Legion's twisted form stiffened, unease prickling beneath his rage.

Then, the ground began to tremble.

Every gaze—Imperium and Scarlet Kingdom alike—snapped toward the broken remains of the Primary World that had fallen upon BeastHeaven. Its shattered crust shuddered, splitting apart with a thunderous groan.

From its fractured depths burst a pillar of violet energy, a blazing torrent that lanced skyward. It did not stop at the clouds, nor at the atmosphere—it pierced into the very void, splitting firmament itself.

The aura that erupted was monstrous, suffocating, impossible. It seemed to deny the rules of existence itself, a force so overwhelming it made ArchDeities tremble and even Azazel's heart stutter. It was not the aura of life. It was something older, something primordial—the weight of inevitability and annihilation.

The pillar slowly faded.

And then he appeared.

From the ruins of the world rose a giant. Nearly five meters tall, his form was carved from stone-like flesh streaked with jagged violet veins of energy, each glowing with primordial force. He had eight arms, each corded with brutal muscle, each pulsing with destructive potential.

His face was a cold mask of menace, framed by wild, pale hair that shimmered faintly like an otherworldly flame. Three glowing purple eyes blazed on his forehead, radiating omniscience and unyielding dominance.

Dark tendrils of violet plasma writhed around him, slithering like living shadows. His mere presence bent the air, twisting space as if the world itself bowed under his weight. He was both menace and majesty—like a god who had fallen into ruin, yet rose again wielding chaos as weapon and shield.

The similarity to Cain was undeniable. His features bore the same sharp lines, the same regal cast of bloodline. As if he were a brother—cut from the same cosmic root. And just like Cain bore two white stars upon his brow, this being bore five!

The colossus inhaled, filling his chest with the burning air of the battlefield. Then, he roared, his voice echoing across continents.

"I… AM… ALIVE!"

His shout was not just a declaration—it was an anthem. Joy, rage, exhilaration—all of it reverberated across sky and earth. The world itself seemed to glow in response, basking in the radiance of his rebirth.

Only after his laughter faded did his gaze sharpen. He turned his three eyes toward the enemies before him, focusing on Azazel and Legion. He did not even deign to glance at the Archdeities.

While others would have quaked before such presences, this man's lips curled into a feral grin.

"You woke me in the middle of a battle," he said, voice dripping with savage delight. "You truly are a good brother, Cain."

Cain's answering smile was wide and genuine. "We Primordials must help one another, Anark."

The world that had fallen like a missile against the Giant Dark Tree had not been just any world. It had been the Gu World. And from its shattered corpse had risen Anark—the entity who had once aided Cain in awakening his Primordial Inheritance. Anark, who had been revived through Cain's bloodline, his psychic force, and the sacrifice of an entire world.

Cain turned back toward Azazel, his smile widening as he drank in the shock painting the True Depravita's face.

"I suppose," Cain said softly, "we're even now."

The warmth of that smile vanished in the next breath. His aura surged, brutal and merciless, killing intent bleeding from every pore of his body. The atmosphere thickened, charged with death.

"Now," Cain declared, his voice cutting like thunder, "it ends. This continent of death will be the grave where this war concludes."

For the first time, Azazel faltered. His heart, his soul, even his carefully hardened will quivered under the weight of so many shocks. But then, like ice re-forging in fire, his determination crystallized. His eyes burned with monstrous coldness, his aura erupting in a storm of malice.

"You are right!" Azazel thundered, his voice shaking the heavens. "This ends today!"

The True Depravita of Sloth unleashed his full might, his essence surging like a tidal wave.

"I will kill you and fulfill my purpose!"

A heartbeat later, the world itself screamed.

Energy of impossible magnitude burst outward as the forces of the Scarlet King and the Imperium of Time collided, tearing the very foundations of the Everstrife Empyrean World.