As the Age of Gods dawned upon Planetos, the spirits descended, each eager to establish themselves among the mortals. On the continent of Ulthos, humans developed their magical abilities at an astonishing pace, almost as if magic was coursing through their veins from birth. The demonic gods took notice, and soon, Ulthos became a battlefield. Gods fought fiercely over the humans, each one trying to gather more followers to gain the faith they needed for power.
In the chaos, two demon gods stood above the rest: Diablerie, the god of death, and Manon, the god of ice. Both had risen quickly, but they couldn't have been more different. Diablerie, with his necromantic authority, commanded legions of the dead. His strength was terrifying, his ambition unmatched. Manon, on the other hand, was cold, calculating, and far more strategic. He wielded ice with precision, and his mind was as sharp as the frost that coated his lands.
For a thousand years, their war ravaged Ulthos, tearing the land apart. Cities crumbled, armies were decimated, and humans were caught in the crossfire. But in the end, it all led to one inevitable conclusion: Diablerie versus Manon.
The final battle between the two gods shattered the continent. Diablerie's undead hordes marched forward, unrelenting and endless. Manon responded with glaciers and ice storms that froze the dead in place. The earth itself quaked under the strain of their power. Jack watched from above, a bemused smile tugging at his lips as the chaos unfolded below.
As Jack had expected, Manon's cunning triumphed over Diablerie's brute strength. With a decisive strike, Manon shattered Diablerie's necromantic control, collapsing his undead army and leaving the death god vulnerable. But victory came at a steep cost. Diablerie's divinity flowed into Manon, merging with his icy essence. While it made Manon more powerful, it also fractured his soul.
Gravely wounded, Manon retreated north, far from the ruined lands of Ulthos. He sought refuge in the icy wastes where the great ice dragons had once roamed but were now extinct. Here, in the freezing desolation, Manon would rebuild—but not as the god he once was.
In his seclusion, Manon realized that the power he had taken from Diablerie had changed him. The cold logic that had once defined him became something darker, more sinister. He was no longer just a god of ice; he had become something far more dangerous. Taking on a new name that reflected his evolving nature, he called himself the Great Other.
As the Great Other, he vowed to become stronger than ever before. His retreat to the north was not an act of surrender but a strategic move to consolidate power. The frozen north would become his domain, and from there, he would wait. He knew his time would come again.
Jack, observing this transformation from his perch, chuckled to himself. "Well, that's an interesting twist," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Manon... no, the Great Other now. Seems like he's embraced the rebranding." He turned to Ari, who had been quietly watching alongside him.
Ari nodded, deep in thought. "Absorbing Diablerie's divinity has given him power, but it's also unstable. He'll need time to fully integrate it."
Jack smirked. "He's got plenty of time. Ulthos is in ruins; not much left for him there anyway. Let him brood and build in his icy castle. The real game is still unfolding across the rest of Planetos."
Ari raised an eyebrow. "You think he'll be a problem?"
Jack's smirk widened. "Oh, definitely. But that's a problem for later. Right now, he's exactly where he needs to be." He glanced down at the devastated continent one last time before shifting his focus. "Besides, there's no real use for Ulthos in the larger story, not yet anyway."
Just as he was about to leave the scene, Jack turned to Ari with a grin. "You know, Ari, I think we finally have our big bad."
Ari's eyes glinted with understanding. "The Great Other?"
Jack chuckled. "Exactly. Every good story needs one, and it looks like he's volunteered."