The Guardian gods

He looked around frantically, searching for the terrifying hallucination that had just tormented him. It was gone. "A hallucination," he whispered to himself, the truth a cold splash of water on his panicked mind.

Beside him, Malzor, the one who was about to "strike", looked down with a sneer. The demon's face was a mask of disdain as he took in Rattan's pathetic, trembling form. He couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. The host of the great Phantom was nothing more than a coward, a pathetic sight unworthy of the power he held.

Malzor had no time for judgment. He pulled Rattan to his feet, his grip surprisingly firm. "You won," was all he said.

Rattan, still disoriented, blinked. "Huh?"

"You won," Malzor repeated, his voice strained with impatience. "The Empire's pillars are gone. Their power is all yours now."

Rattan could barely process the words, but the gravity of the statement slowly sank in. He stood on shaky legs, stumbling past the demons pouring out of the abyssal portal and heading back through the shimmering archway.

He was back in the abyss layer, but this side was different. It wasn't cold. He pushed off the ground, taking flight to gain a better vantage point. Below him, demons swarmed, a sea of monstrous forms stretching to the horizon. There was no sign of the Empire army, no Vellok, no mages, nothing.

Rattan flew back out of the portal, his eyes fixed on the distant demon army as they marched into the unknown. Malzor floated beside him, his gaze intense. "My orders are to obey your commands. The demon army is yours now."

A grin stretched across Rattan's face, a thing that he could no longer contain. His heart hammered in his chest as he took in Malzor's words. "Do you mean," he stammered, his voice filled with a giddy disbelief, "this world is now mine to own and command?"

Malzor's gaze was sharp, but he gave a slight nod. "It's indeed yours to command." He ignored the second half of Rattan's question, the part about "owning," but Rattan was too lost in his own fantasy to notice. He threw his head back and began to laugh, a wild, hysterical sound that echoed across the blasted landscape.

Still laughing, he pointed a trembling finger at the advancing demon army. "Where are they going?"

Malzor looked out over the monstrous horde, his expression unreadable. "There are many lands yet untouched by us. There are things to be received and recovered." He didn't elaborate, leaving Rattan to imagine what "things" the demons were seeking.

Rattan's laughter died down, a more somber question finally crossing his mind. He'd been dreading it, but he had to know. "What happens to my people? What happens to the goblins?" He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the worst.

To his complete surprise, Malzor's response was not what he expected. "No lifeforms on this world would be harmed or brought to death by us demons," he said, "except for the uncorrupted lands which have yet to be corrupted by us."

Rattan couldn't help but turn to Malzor, a wide, incredulous smile spreading across his face. He saw the serious look in the demon's eyes and the grin only grew. "My guardian," he said with a laugh, "truly knows what's best for me."

Malzor rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, indeed he does. Which is why you're needed."

"Needed for what?" Rattan asked, his laughter dying down to a low chuckle.

Malzor took a deep breath, his patience clearly wearing thin. "As I said before, this world is now yours to command. You are its new emperor, and its people are yours to lead. You are needed back at the empire to calm and lead its people, to present yourself as its new leader."

The more Malzor spoke, the wider Rattan's grin became. A wave of giddiness washed over him as he considered the possibilities. He posed a question that he believed was of utmost importance. "Should I present myself as I am, or as I was before?"

Malzor simply smiled. "The choice is yours," he said, and with that, his form began to dissipate into thin air, leaving Rattan alone with his thoughts and his ever-widening grin. The weight of his new title settled upon him, a crown of both power and expectation.

A new reality dawned on Rattan. He was no longer the rat man who had been a pawn in a war he didn't understand. He was an ogre, a new emperor. With a purpose and a new identity, he chose to assume the form of the ogre he was in, to truly show his power. He began his journey back to the goblin capital, the City of Whispering Spires.

His old life was a distant memory. He had justified all his actions to himself. He had endured a lot and survived. The empire that had tormented his people was now his to command. He smiled as he pictured himself walking through the streets, the goblins and ogres bowing down to him. It was a new beginning for him and his people.

He took flight, his massive ogre body soaring through the air. Below him, the shattered remnants of the battlefield gave way to lush, green forests and rolling hills. The journey was long, but Rattan's anticipation grew with every mile. He was returning not as a broken rat man, but as a conqueror, a king, a god in his own right.

With the spires of the capital city now in sight, Rattan halted his flight, a surge of power coursing through him. The City of Whispering Spires, once a symbol of his oppression, was about to become his throne. But a decision still lingered in his mind: should he enter the city as the powerful ogre or in his true form as a rat-man?

He considered the demon's words, that the throne was his no matter what. Yet, Rattan was a pragmatist. He knew appearing as a rat-man would be met with suspicion and, most likely, rebellion from the goblin and ogre nobility. The empire's military was in shambles after its defeat against the demons, and though Rattan, in his current fifth stage, could easily crush any opposition, he preferred a more subtle path.

He wanted to have both. He wanted to maintain his identity as the ogre royalty Kaelen, a known hero throughout the empire, while also holding onto his true rat-man identity. This wasn't about security or power; it was about satisfaction. Rattan reveled in the thought of the goblins and ogres, who had always viewed his people as lesser, bowing their heads to him without ever knowing their new emperor was one of the very beings they had disdained. The game of toying with them, of playing them for fools, was far more gratifying than any simple conquest.

A sense of unease settled over Rattan. The prospect of the rat-folk, his own people, seeing him as a hero brought him no joy. It felt... basic. In his mind, it was simply a given that they would see him that way. He was the one who had led them this far, after all. Their adoration felt less like a reward and more like a foregone conclusion.

Phantom, In Rattan conciousness, shook his head at the unspoken thoughts. He saw how deeply Rattan had absorbed the goblin mage society's values and views. Unknowingly, Rattan had begun to see his own people through the same prejudiced lens that the goblins had for so long. The very idea of the rat-folk celebrating him felt cheapened by this new perspective; their praise was hollow because, in his mind, they were a lesser people.

The true satisfaction lay not in being a hero to his own kind, but in receiving the adulation of the powerful goblins and ogres. He craved the recognition of a society he now saw as superior, a society that had once looked down on him. This internal conflict, this subtle self-loathing masked as ambition, was the true reason for his hesitation. He wanted their grace, their respect, because it was a validation he felt his own people couldn't truly provide.

He decided. He would return as Kaelen, the ogre hero. The feeling of superiority that came with the decision was intoxicating. He landed just outside the city gates, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground. The ogre guards, armed with enchanted spears, stared at him in awe and fear. They bowed, their faces showing their confusion at his sudden return.

As he walked through the City of Whispering Spires, the people watched in a mixture of awe and fear. They had heard of the great war and the how the empire army was going to fight the demons, seeing Kaelen, they thought they had won. Whispers began to spread.

His journey to the main palace was a procession of stunned silence. He walked past the magical structures and arcane monuments that he once could only dream of seeing. Now, he was their master. As he entered the palace, the nobles and officials of the goblin empire who heard of his return swarmed him, their faces a mixture of confusion and disbelief.