The giant vortex tore everything apart in its surroundings, devouring planets, moons, and stars, reducing them to mere particles of dust. Galaxies shook, their once-stable orbits thrown into chaos as the raw power of the battling gods fractured the very fabric of space itself. Entire star systems, which had existed for millennia, disintegrated in mere moments, unable to withstand the force of the clash.
The universe trembled violently, its structure warping as it struggled to contain the cataclysmic energy unleashed by these godlike beings. Space itself rippled and cracked, threatening to collapse under the immense strain of their powers. The brilliant glow of light collided endlessly with the swirling abyss of darkness, neither yielding nor faltering, each desperate to assert dominance.
They raised their fists once more, eyes blazing with the fire of resolve. The sound of their strikes echoed across the cosmos like the tolling of some ancient, celestial bell. Each punch, whether aimed at a face or caught in hand-to-hand combat, reverberated with enough force to tear open rifts in space, sending shockwaves rippling outward.
The blows landed with devastating precision, splitting entire nebulae apart in the aftermath. Stars flared violently, collapsing into black holes before being absorbed by the vortex's insatiable hunger. It was a struggle not just of might, but of wills—the very essence of light and darkness entangled in a dance of destruction, as neither side would submit to the other.
The gods' forms flickered in and out of sight, their speed beyond comprehension, their battle a blur of light and shadow. Each punch came with the weight of a thousand supernovas, and every blocked strike shattered distant worlds.
The universe groaned under the immense pressure of their clash, as galaxies disintegrated into dust and stars were consumed by the swirling vortex. The God of Darkness and the Goddess of Light were locked in an eternal struggle, their fists colliding with the force of dying suns, yet neither faltered. Their elemental forms clashed once more, darkness and light swirling and intertwining like two cosmic serpents battling for dominance.
The space around them rippled as the God of Darkness stepped back, his form flickering and twisting, while the Goddess of Light rose, her ethereal glow intensifying. And then, in unison, their third eyes opened.
Abyssal Sovereign
A chilling silence descended as the third eye of the God of Darkness opened at the center of his forehead. Unlike the chaotic violence of their earlier battle, this power was cold and consuming, a void with no end. The eye was a swirling vortex of infinite darkness, drawing in all light, energy, and matter that dared approach.
The runes encircling it twisted and shifted, their dark, ancient symbols speaking of destruction and the unmaking of reality. His body, now a silhouette of pure shadow, dissolved into a living void.
Tendrils of darkness sprouted from his back, forming jagged, bat-like wings that dissipated at the edges, absorbing every flicker of light around him.
Where his form once stood, there was now only void. Black holes manifested with every movement, consuming planets, moons, and debris from the battle.
The very fabric of space seemed to unravel at his mere presence, distorting as his chaotic essence spread. He raised his hand, and reality bent to his will, the crushing weight of destruction rippling toward his divine foe.
Celestial Sovereign
In response, the Goddess of Light ascended, her third eye glowing with the radiance of a thousand suns. It opened slowly, bathing the universe in pure, golden light, illuminating every corner of the darkness.
Her eye shimmered with the essence of life itself, a reflection of creation, hope, and order. The intricate starburst within her third eye spun like a celestial dance, with beams of light extending in all directions, pushing back against the oppressive void.
Her entire body became a conduit for the energy of the cosmos. The translucent wings that formed behind her were made of pure light, and with every beat, they sent waves of luminous energy that could heal or destroy.
She was no longer bound by her previous form—her gown transformed into flowing ribbons of light, her presence radiant and overwhelming, as though the very stars had chosen her as their embodiment.
She extended her hand, and galaxies reformed in an instant, stars reignited, and space itself began to mend. Where her light touched, the darkness was burned away, and order was restored, even as the vortex of destruction loomed ever closer.
The God of Darkness, with his abyssal eye drawing in all existence, and the Goddess of Light, her radiant third eye blazing with the energy of life itself. Their forms blurred, becoming streaks of light and shadow, racing toward each other with unimaginable speed.
And then, they collided.
boom!
The impact was unlike anything before—a cataclysmic explosion of light and darkness, creation and destruction intertwined.
The vortex of the God of Darkness expanded, threatening to erase everything in its path, while the Goddess of Light was pushed back far away like 10 million miles away.
Planets, stars, and entire galaxies were not caught in the middle, but as there were no planets or galaxies nearby due to their colliding previously, nothing tore apart.
Astaroth moved with terrifying speed, closing the distance between them in an instant. As Elara struggled to rise from the broken void of space, still reeling from their last clash, Astaroth struck again—this time with unrelenting force.
His fist slammed into her back, driving her downward with a force so immense it sent shockwaves rippling through the remnants of the battlefield.
Elara hurtled through the void like a beam of light, her body crashing hard into the jagged remains of a shattered planet. The impact fractured the ground beneath her, sending cracks splintering through the broken debris.
Pain surged through her, every muscle burning with the toll of battle, and blood flowed freely from her wounds, staining the rocks around her. She gasped, her chest heaving as she coughed up blood, the metallic taste filling her mouth.
The oozing crimson dripped from countless cuts and gashes across her body, evidence of the brutal assault she had endured. Her vision wavered, the edges of her sight blurring as exhaustion threatened to overtake her.
Through the haze, she saw Astaroth approaching, his presence looming, his dark figure framed against the distant, crumbling stars. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, as though savoring the moment, the inevitable conclusion of their brutal conflict drawing nearer with each step.
Elara's voice trembled as she lay broken among the ruins of the shattered planet, her breath shallow and uneven. Blood trickled from her lips, but her eyes, though blurred, sought Astaroth in the fading light of the stars. She could barely keep them open, yet her heart clung to one final wish.
"Astaroth," she whispered, the sound barely escaping her. Her voice was fragile, a mix of pain and longing, each word carrying the weight of their past. "I wanna see you... one last time, before I die. I wanna see you... one last time."
Her words hung in the air between them, a soft plea that echoed through the void. Astaroth, standing above her, froze. The abyss in his third eye flickered, the darkness swirling with an intensity that matched the turmoil inside him. His hand, still outstretched from the brutal strike, lowered slightly as her words pierced through the layers of hatred and bitterness that had consumed him.
For a moment, the rage and power that had fueled his every move faltered, and in its place was something he hadn't felt in eons—a deep, aching sorrow. He stood there, silent, his eyes locked onto her broken form. The once-mighty goddess, now reduced to a fragile figure on the brink of death, yet still reaching for something she believed in.
He knelt down slowly, his immense form casting a shadow over her as the stars crumbled behind him. The coldness in his gaze softened as he took in her fading light, the light that had once stood by his side, illuminating even his darkest days.
"Elara…" Astaroth murmured, his voice low and strained. He leaned closer, close enough for her to see his face through the haze of pain and exhaustion. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the mask of the God of Darkness slipped, revealing the man he had once been—the one she had loved.
Elara's lips curled into a faint smile, her chest rising and falling weakly. Her trembling hand reached for him, though she could barely lift it. Her fingers grazed his cheek, and for the briefest moment, they were no longer enemies, no longer gods of war and chaos. They were simply two souls, bound by love and tragedy.
"Thank you for everything, Astaroth," Elara whispered, her voice barely audible, each word laced with both sorrow and love. Her breathing was shallow, her body broken, but her heart still clung to the last remnants of life. "I Love you... so much."
Astaroth's breath caught in his throat as he knelt beside her, the darkness that had consumed him flickering with an emotion he had long forgotten. He could feel her slipping away, her light dimming, but there was something more—something she needed to say. He leaned closer, his heart heavy with the weight of their past, their love, and now, their inevitable parting.
"I have one thing to tell you, Astaroth..." Elara continued her voice barely a whisper, each breath more labored than the last. "You... need to go and meet the God King. Someone is plotting against the Gods." Her words came slower now, her strength nearly gone. She struggled, her chest heaving as she fought to speak, her eyes—once bright and full of light—now dimming, but still locked onto his.
Astaroth leaned closer, desperate to hear her, to understand the warning she was trying to give. Her lips trembled, her breath faltering as she continued, "I think he is the God Of—"
Her voice faded, the final words slipping away as her body went still. Her hand, once warm in his grasp, fell limp. Her eyes, filled with the last glimmer of light, closed softly as her life ebbed away in his arms.
Astaroth's heart, already heavy with grief, shattered at that moment. He felt the weight of her loss crushes him, the realization that she was gone, forever. His chest tightened with unbearable pain, a pain far worse than any battle wound, as the only person who had once shared his heart slipped away.
"No!" His scream echoed through the void, raw and guttural, filled with agony that tore through the silence of the universe. His powerful form trembled, fists clenched as the darkness around him surged, his sorrow erupting into a vortex of uncontrollable rage and grief. He clutched Elara's still body, pressing his forehead to hers, the overwhelming sorrow drowning him. "Elara..." he whispered, but there was no response.
She was gone.