Far from Terra, beyond worlds, where space is cloaked in ruthless darkness and universes are mere insignificant, sparkling fragments, chaos is the uncontested sovereign. In this place ruled by war and desolation, peoples, in their infinite diversity, gather, combining the strength and courage that flow within them, to face a threat of another kind, an incarnated nightmare.
Barbatéos is there, the grandeur of the absurdity of his existence shaking space, and none can avert their gaze from this figure of cataclysm personified. His humanoid silhouette seems to embody the abyss, his volcanic, fleshy, incandescent, flawless body exhaling a force both primitive and divine. His head, a skeletal skull crowned with horns as terrifying as they are captivating, displays a draconic jaw. And his eyes, two demonic abysses, are the portals leading to an unlimited evil.
Today again, he enslaves entire universes as if they were mere chessboards beneath his grip. Before him stands now an innumerable army, a living ocean of quintillions of warriors from every people of this universe, united in a final desperate surge to attempt to end the Devourer's conquests.
A war admiral steps forward to challenge Barbatéos. His voice resonates through space, filled with trembling courage, defying the wrath of this ultimate predator.
"Barbatéos, you may have conquered this universe, but we will not submit to the illogicality of your conquests. Together, we will defeat you, you are a threat to all peoples of all universes. We will prevent the darkness that shelters you from spreading further into the great cosmos. People of the universe, arm your souls with the greatest determination and let us strike down this monster!!!"
A rumble rises, and countless rays of cosmic energy converge, joining in an explosion of power that seems ready to pierce the darkest point of the universe. But Barbatéos remains impassive, simply absorbing this insane force without flinching. A feeling of emptiness, like an insatiable void, grips him. He feels nothing but his own hunger.
Barbatéos – "I'm starting to get a little hungry. Perhaps the scale of this universe will satisfy my appetite... for a moment."
The conqueror's insatiable hunger drives him to relentlessly attack the soldiers trying to protect their territory. No one has the slightest chance of perceiving the full extent of his fury, let alone containing it. They all fall, annihilated in a few seconds, their souls merging in a crackling wave at the heart of the battlefield, which becomes the hunting ground of a relentless nuisance.
It is time for this universe to suffer the common fate of those who only have the strength to kneel before the devourer. Then, he exerts an insane gravitational force, pulling galactic clusters, life forms, abstract concepts, and entire dimensions toward his being. The feast is drawn to him, and he savors a snack that he finds rather satisfying.
He moves in front of this singularity, trying, however feebly, to impose a fake authority on Barbatéos, while nothing can sensibly affect him at this scale. He enters the source of the universe to evolve. But as he merges with the matrix of this universe, a shadow emerges: an old man, the last hope of the universe, strikes Barbatéos with a direct blow. The impact, infused with pure force, propels the Devourer out of the singularity.
Stunned by this bold action, he temporarily halts the absorption of this shell, the stupidity of his intervention provoking him.
"I am well aware that some are born with intelligence comparable to that of livestock, but you have impressed me. You must be a trivial deity of no real importance. I am in a rather good mood at the moment, flee while the opportunity presents itself."
The insignificant deity is fearless, surely unaware of who stands before him.
"You disappoint me greatly, conqueror, you allow yourself to kill all forms of life in the universe while being the only selfish one to survive? I will strike you down on the spot, you only eat because they allowed you to. You are not truly free in the end."
These words traverse space like a monotonous cry, reaching Barbatéos, who remains impassive. However, a flicker of anger arises in his eyes, as cold as interstellar nothingness.
"It seemed to me," he said with a cutting tone, "that I graciously allowed you to continue your pathetic existence. Your frail trembling voice urges me to rip your life away without mercy. Every one of your words is the echo of a fragility just waiting to be broken. If you have not understood the gravity of your words, rest assured that I will teach you."
Filled with dread, the deity felt the overwhelming presence of Barbatéos, an aura so devastating that even his breath seemed to consume everything. Gripped by an irrepressible survival instinct, he attempted to flee, projecting his body far from this titan. But, like the predator he was, Barbatéos materialized before him, closing his powerful hands around his chin with devastating authority.
"Where are you going? My meal cannot leave so quickly, unless I decide to finish it. I consume whatever I desire."
His head enlarges, consuming the deity in the vast diversity of nutrients he could offer. He then returns to the center of the universe, merging with the source. He opens a portal giving a view of the colossal mothership. A structure of disproportionate size, stretching its bowels across dozens of entire galaxies. The guards prostrate themselves before Barbatéos' return, singing in unison to his glory.
"Lord Barbatéos is back!!! Long live Barbatéos!!! Long live Barbatéos!!!"
But within this allegiance, a lower, calmer voice resounds. Vemolia, his comrade-in-arms, steps forward, a calculating smile on his lips.
"You're finally back, you've made some progress, my brother. Time is running out. Our Master wishes to meet with you. This is a matter of such importance that you cannot afford to ignore it."
Barbatéos, walking through the rows of warriors bowing to show their adoration, continued on his way in silence. He entered another dimension. A being made entirely of irregular dark matter, with immense musculature, leaving in its wake inhuman streaks.
Vemolia: "It took you a while. Are you having difficulty submitting the weak?
Barbatéos: "Does your immaturity never cease to endure at the edges of your soul?"
Vemolia: "Do you think my immaturity led me to become his right hand? The Master wishes to meet us to discuss the next phase of plans for acquiring the great world. We don't need to discuss it amongst ourselves; I promise you we will have more time in the future."
Barbatéos: "I hope that since the last time we met, you have finally learned to honor a promise. The Master has finally decided to speak with us. This is excellent news my brother shares with me. He must still be training in his personal dimension, I suppose. Vemolia, lead me to our Lord, please."
Vemolia: "Follow me, he's waiting for us. He took the trouble to grant us his precious time, so let's make sure he doesn't kill us for arriving too slowly."
Barbatéos' brother cuts through space with a perfect motion, connecting their master's domain with theirs. He leads him to a room where the Master stands behind a veil, masking his identity as well as his mysterious appearance. The two kneel before a divine being.
"I have been waiting for you. The conquest of worlds is going splendidly, I am pleased that you are finally taking this more seriously. Your people are under my jurisdiction as long as you follow my orders. They are safe because I am their protector. You seem to have made remarkable progress in the last decade."
Barbatéos responded, his tone laced with inappropriate words:
"I thank my Lord for noticing. May I know the reason for our presence in your company? As for your training, does it bear sufficient fruit?"
The Master didn't bother to hide his irritation.
"Do not presume to speak to me in such a tone."
Barbatéos' body is compressed; he suddenly feels seized, constricted by an unknown and merciless force, which seems to distill an endless suffering into him, piercing every fiber of his being with infinite cruelty. On his side, his brother violently lowers his head, slamming it to the ground. He pleads to their Master in a voice trembling with humility.
"Please, Master, spare my brother. Perhaps he is not fully aware of his actions."
His horrific screams of agony are a true torment to hear. For Vemolia, it is a tearing pain that reminds him of his status. The Master raises an indifferent hand and, with a simple snap of his fingers, ends Barbatéos' existence. Brutal explosions erupt within his body, sending a pool of scarlet blood to the floor.
Then, the silence closes in, crushing and total, as if the entire universe is holding its breath. But at that moment, Barbatéos resurrects, intact but silent in shock, still stunned by what he has just endured, unable to utter a word of apology.
The Master breaks the silence with an indolent voice:
"Come now, don't worry, I am not that sensitive. It was just a small joke, a response to your impudence that echoed like a squeak in my ears. But let's move on."
The brother, shocked by his master's response, implores.
"Thank you so much for granting him your mercy, your great and infinite kindness is unmatched."
But the Master, unmoved by Vemolia's flattery, continues his speech in a detached tone.
"Commander Keryt went on a reconnaissance mission to a planet affected by dimensional fractures. These cracks open the way to a new category of worlds, worlds called realms, being more restricted than the universes we usually dominate. This is an opportunity that members of the Organization cannot afford to miss. However, your commander is dead following his reconnaissance mission. I will let you view what I kept from his two battles."
With a gesture, the Master projects the memories of Commander Keryt. Barbatéos observes the battle against a certain Titan and another being named Atachi. He recognizes Titan, but the other remains unknown.
Barbatéos- "I recognize the identity of the one who lost, I met him 156 years ago on the planet Hyperion. He was just a child whom the supreme deity Seturgya saved and damaged my evolutionary factors. I still bear the marks. I conclude that Seturgya resides on the planet Terra. I will send a fleet to verify my hypothesis. If this proves true, then I will personally go to conquer that insignificant pebble."
Vemolia- "But it was that human who defeated Keryt, and he was far from being the weakest of our commanders. Keryt could destroy a vast number of worlds, and that man humiliated him with alarming ease. I would never suggest he could defeat us, but let's be cautious."
Barbatéos -"I will follow my plan, but rest assured my Lord, I will conquer this universe in the name of the Organization."
The Master, raising an amused eyebrow, responds:
"Vemolia, stay here. I have a real mission waiting for you in another great world. You may now leave, Barbatéos. I have transferred the details of your next mission. You should enjoy it since you will be in the company of your brother."
Barbatéos casts one last glance at Vemolia, where a fleeting despair can be seen, before leaving the room, while Vemolia remains impassive in front of their Master.
Meanwhile, on Terra, the ranks of the Yorquin Rangers gather. Members from the A Alpha classes and some representatives from the feared Z Omega class hold an emergency meeting to investigate the disaster of the energy column that threatened to annihilate the worlds. Toscov, who was closest to the dimensional portal, opens the report solemnly:
"I had absolutely no idea what was coming. This explosion was caused by beings fighting inside the rift. A fight in which humanity did not participate, but which ended with the act of this stranger. I heard his voice; he let me hear it simply so I could understand the chance he had given us by acting in such a way. He saved us from this evil."
An A Alpha-ranked hero speaks, intrigued by the existence of this stranger.
"I noticed a being who appeared behind you for a moment, but the brief moment I tried to identify him, not only did his aura prevent me, but he had already left long ago."
A heroine intervenes to ask Toscov a question, her curiosity must be relieved.
"What did you see inside the rift?"
Before he can respond, a member of the raid from the famous Z Omega class steps forward. He recounts how, through an astral journey, he entered the heart of this dimensional rift. His voice rises:
"I entered the rift by undertaking an astral journey with my soul. What I saw did not truly frighten me. But I have never witnessed such violent dimensional destruction in my entire existence. The being who stood before me was simply extrinsic; I had the strange feeling that a demon king stood in those apocalyptic surroundings."
In a recent moment of the past, the Z Omega class member then held the barrier, not lingering on the released energy. He concentrated his soul by closing his eyes. Leaving his physical body, he rushed at full speed toward the other world. His soul arrives before the ruins of the devastation from an entity truly out of the ordinary. He felt a shiver he thought he had expelled earlier. A man falls peacefully; he came from the sky to return home.
?- "You seem to be the source of that overwhelming amount of energy expelled on Terra. I will hurry to finish you off, unknown. Unfortunately, today is not your lucky day."
Atachi, with a precise gesture, unleashed a shockwave, temporarily blinding the hero's mind. The shock he received was the revealing slip that showcased the immense power difference between them.
"I forgot to extend this little fire, my apologies. It's really not my lucky day, you're right. I've lost my accommodation again, I got kicked out of my new home, all because I was simply making homemade dumplings. As long as the social services provide me with a new apartment, I'll be happy to have that chance. I digress. Terra seems safe thanks to you, heroes. You've proudly protected Terra. Here, the battle is over, you can finally return home."
Then, with a simple movement, Atachi absorbed all the energy from the geyser in a fraction of a second and, with a wave of his hand, sent the hero back into his physical body, without him having glimpsed the face of this entity.
Back to the present, the report had been concluded after a few hours. Toscov and the Z-Class went into another room, designed for the training of very high ranks. Toscov gets ready.
"Are you sure you want to face the hologram of this being? I don't have an accurate image of him, so I've given him the appearance that my own imagination associates with his grandeur."
Toscov, his gaze burning with unwavering desire, responded defiantly:
"Since the birth of the Yorquin Rangers Terra, my sole goal has been to become the ultimate hero, the one who could tread territories far beyond these pitiful worlds I've explored, places where you finally touch the authenticity of power."
A smile, almost nostalgic, appeared on the face of his interlocutor.
"You are already a hero of great class, what more do you want? The missions given to us by the Yorquin Rangers Terra are inhuman. When I myself discovered that I had the potential to rise to the top, I was so excited at the thought of fighting cosmic entities or negotiating in the deepest corners of the cosmos. But in the end, I'm simply forced to protect humanity at the expense of heroes who will never rest."
Toscov furrowed his brow, his mind tormented by a question that haunted him.
"Then why do you continue to extend yourself? Why not end this endless spiral?"
?- "We were designed to incarnate in a body obsessed with control, power, pleasure, and destruction. Our souls, meanwhile, have adapted to the species in which we embody ourselves. It's not something we can get rid of so easily. We are undoubtedly the strongest, but we have become the most oppressed by our desires, filled with this growing madness that will only stop when death presents us with this ultimate truth. The one we have always sought. We deprive ourselves of this truth to satisfy our desires to be the center of the world."
He materializes an imaginary being, a simple projection of the image Toscov had forged of the enigmatic Atachi: an energetic silhouette, faceless, almost ethereal, a nearly palpable absence, a grandeur out of reach. It radiated no visible aura, but its essence transcended physical presence.
Toscov - It's time to measure the extent of my progress.
A minute passed, the room had vanished, the Z-Class hero had contained the power of both. But only one was still standing. However, it was not human. Toscov was thrown out of the Yorquin Rangers Terra, somewhere on Terra. The fragile and insulting version of Atachi disappears. Everything returns to its original state. He fades away, disappearing like a dark gray mist.
Back at his father's palace, Titan returns with his hand on his heart, haunted, finding himself in that terrible state of powerlessness again. He lived according to the desire and will of the tyrant, never able to choose his own fate. In front of his father's palace for over two days, the shame he felt prevented him from standing before him.
"I am prey, fallible no less, incapable of facing this simple Terranian of a race so inferior to the divine. Everything has a price: becoming elusive to their actions, surpassing their choices, and acquiring the independence that Atachi reflects. I probably admire him a little too much. Father, I am so ashamed to look you in the eyes, I'm so tired of losing, of not being up to the task. I want to become worthy of you, I want to be worthy of existence."
His father has been waiting for him on his throne all this time, he will neither come to help him nor search for him. It is not his role to stop him from a deep self-reflection.
"I am only passing through, my son. You will have to take responsibility if you wish to evolve without ever finding an end. This Terranian, I observed him during your stupid confrontation. He wasn't normal, indeed, I look forward to meeting Atachi. Xavier will be delighted that I am finally introducing him to a warrior capable of changing the world's destiny."