The battlefield was a mess of fractured reality colors inverted, gravity shifting, and space itself warping unpredictably. Amidst the chaos, I watched as Celos unleashed a dark, crackling energy that seemed to reject everything it touched. He was calm, even in this storm of broken logic and conflicting forces. I could tell he was in his element.
The God of Destiny hovered above the shattered landscape, furious and desperate to regain control. Brianna, usually so composed, was struggling to hold herself together, caught between conflicting commands. It was clear that Celos's interference had thrown the entire narrative off balance, but I wasn't entirely sure how—until now.
"Celos, what did you do?" I asked, my voice cutting through the turmoil. I kept my distance, wary of getting too close to his anti-concept energy. I'd seen enough to know that stuff could erase anything—matter, magic, even ideas—from existence.
Celos glanced at me, a slight smirk on his face. "Don't you remember what I could accomplish with the full potential of Anti-concept? You witnessed it first hand in our first battle." He extended his hand toward the sky, and that eerie, void-like energy surged around him. "Anti-concept doesn't just disrupt, but negate. They're the antithesis of existence itself, rejecting reality's very principles. Concepts like causality, time, power—they're all just constructs. My anti-concepts don't just break those constructs; they erase them entirely."
The God of Destiny's eyes narrowed as he tried to reassert control, golden threads of fate weaving around him. "You think you can simply nullify destiny with such crude power? I am the weaver of fates, the architect of all paths! You are nothing but a—"
"Spare me the theatrics," Celos cut him off coldly. "You rely on narratives on fixed concepts and rules. Your power only works because it's rooted in order and predictability. But anti-concepts? They don't just defy rules; they erase the very foundation those rules are built on."
I could feel it in the air the friction as Celos's energy clashed with the God's threads. It was like watching oil and water mix; they weren't just incompatible they were in a constant state of conflict. The anti-concept energy wasn't just resisting the God's control; it was devouring it, erasing the narrative structure thread by thread.
Brianna stumbled, her eyes flickering between cold obedience and confused panic. "Where… what am I supposed to do?" she murmured, gripping her head as if she was trying to keep her thoughts from tearing apart.
The God of Destiny's aura surged, reality distorting around him as he poured all his focus into reasserting dominance. "You cannot escape fate! I control the flow of cause and effect, the very fabric of your world!"
Celos chuckled darkly. "Not anymore." He turned to me, more amused than anything else. "Sion, you ever wonder what happens when you introduce an infinite contradiction into a system designed to be absolute?"
I shrugged, but I could already guess where this was headed. "It collapses on itself?"
"Exactly." Celos snapped his fingers, and the air around him rippled as his anti-concepts amplified. "Destiny relies on things making sense on one event leading predictably to the next. But by introducing an anti-concept something that fundamentally cannot exist within that structure I've created a feedback loop. Every attempt the God makes to reassert control just fuels the loop, destabilizing his narrative further."
The God of Destiny's expression twisted with rage, but I could see it his power was faltering. Every thread of fate he spun dissolved into nothingness the moment it collided with Celos's anti-concepts. The more he tried to fight back, the more unstable everything became.
"This… this is impossible!" The God of Destiny snarled, lashing out with a wave of energy. The attack was wild, chaotic—nothing like his usual precise control. He was losing it, and he knew it.
I watched as the blast arced wildly, nowhere near where Celos or I stood. The terrain buckled beneath the God, and he fell to one knee, coughing up blood. He glared at Celos with a hatred that could melt steel. "You dare challenge the flow of fate itself?"
Celos walked forward, almost casually, his voice dripping with condescension. "You've always been so proud of your 'absolute control.' But your arrogance is your downfall. You built your entire power on the idea that everything can be controlled, that every cause must have an effect. But what happens when there's a cause that has no effect—or an effect with no cause?"
I could see it now the God's control was completely unraveled. Brianna, no longer bound by fate's strings, collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath. Her mind was still reeling, but she was free.
"What did you do?" she managed to ask, her voice trembling.
Celos gave her a cold, almost pitiful look. "I severed the concept of control itself. By negating the very idea that destiny can dictate your actions, I made the entire system unsustainable. Your mind was caught in the contradiction, torn between commands that couldn't coexist. Now, you're free to make your own choices—though I doubt you'll fully recover anytime soon."
The God of Destiny let out a roar, forcing himself to stand. His power flared one last time, but it was unstable, flickering like a dying flame. "You think you've won?" he spat, staggering forward. "I am fate itself! I will—"
"No, you won't," I cut in, stepping closer to him. "You're done. Celos shattered the rules you built everything on. The moment he introduced anti-concepts into your narrative, your power became your greatest weakness."
Celos nodded in agreement, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Fate is built on consistency, and once that's gone, so is your power. You're just clinging to broken threads now."
The God of Destiny collapsed, his body trembling as he stared at the ground in disbelief. The battlefield was falling apart, distorted remnants of his control spiraling into nothingness. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to keep fighting, but there was no strength left in him. He was spent—defeated.
Celos turned to me, shrugging nonchalantly. "Order's always afraid of chaos. Because deep down, it knows it's just one contradiction away from falling apart."