The Dreadspire loomed in the distance, an unholy monolith that seemed to warp the very fabric of reality around it. The closer Maraak got, the more the air itself seemed to resist him, thickening into a suffocating shroud. The tower's jagged spires clawed at the crimson sky, pulsing with an eerie, organic glow. It was no mere structure; it was alive, its walls breathing with a slow, rhythmic cadence, as if the Abyss itself had forged it from flesh and shadow.
Maraak's armor felt heavier with each step, the weight of his journey bearing down on him as the oppressive power of the spire grew more intense. The blade's runes glowed with a sickening light that mirrored the pulse of the tower as Nyxbrand trembled in his grasp. As if the blade were ravening for the impending conflict, its words had become louder and more urgent.
The blade hissed in a sultry and obnoxious voice, "Do you feel it, Maraak?" This is the starting point. This is where your actual fate plays out.
"And ends," Maraak whispered to himself as he gripped the hilt of the blade more tightly.
The battlefield behind him was a bleak picture of destruction and bloodshed. The surviving members of the Resistance stood silently, staring at the looming nightmare in front of them with pale, troubled faces. From a distance, Aelyn saw Maraak, her face alternating between terror and fervent optimism. No one ventured to follow. Legend has it that the Dreadspire was a prohibited location where even the most valiant warriors perished.
When Maraak reached the massive gates, they groaned open, and he moved laboriously and slowly, as though the spire itself was reluctant to allow him entry. Beyond there was a great hall, its walls covered with grotesque carvings that moved and writhed in the dim, flickering light. Silently, the sculptures moaned, their faces twisted in agony.
"Welcome, Blood Reaver," a deep, booming voice murmured, reverberating like a physical force through the air.
Maraak entered the hall, looking about in the shadows. The source of the voice could not be identified; it was both everywhere and nowhere. Then the Blood Eternal appeared out of the darkness.
Its actual shape eluded understanding and reason. It was a constantly changing mess of eyes, limbs, and faces, each one emerging and vanishing as though stuck in a never-ending cycle of creation and devastation. Maraak felt as though he would be crushed by the tremendous aura of strength emanating from it.
With a symphony of discordant tones, the Blood Eternal murmured, "Maraak, you have come a long way." "But this is where your journey comes to an end—not in rebellion, but in fulfillment."
The runes on the blade flared with crimson light as Maraak leveled Nyxbrand at the creature. "I came here not to haggle."
With a sound like glass shattering and stone grinding, the Blood Eternal laughed. "You don't understand. I already have you. That blade you're carrying is a piece of the Abyss itself, a piece of me. You have only gotten closer to me with each soul you have fed it.
Maraak's uncertainty flickered, but he smothered it under his will. "Then I'll sever myself from you—starting now."
With a roar, he charged. Nyxbrand cut through the air in a blur of motion, its energy slicing a path toward the Blood Eternal. The entity moved with impossible speed, its form dissolving into shadow and reforming to evade each strike.
Its tone was sarcastic as it added, "You are strong, Reaver." "But eternity cannot be conquered by strength alone."
With the force of a tempest, the Blood Eternal threw out tendrils of shadow. Nyxbrand cut through the tendrils with ruthless effectiveness while Maraak dodged and countered. Every cut limb vanished into smoke, only to be replaced by others.
The thing released a tremendous surge of energy that struck Maraak and sent him flying backward. His armor rattled and blood dripped from his lips as he collided with a bent pillar. Even though his body ached, he pushed himself to stand, his hold on Nyxbrand unwavering.
With its voice coiling like a serpent around his mind, the blade said, "You can't defeat me alone." "Give me command. Allow me to demonstrate what real power feels like.
Maraak snarled, pushing the blade's power to the back of his consciousness. "Not yet."
He charged once more, launching a barrage of lethal blows with a blur of movement. With every strike, the Blood Eternal's form was profoundly pierced by Nyxbrand's blazing runes. Shards of its essence splintered and spread, each shrieking as it disappeared into nothingness.
But with every blow Maraak delivered, the monster seemed to grow more powerful. Its body ached with new life, and its laughter echoed in the hallway like a scream of endless vileness.
"Mortal, you cannot destroy me," it retorted patronizingly. "My name is Abyss." I am the beginning as well as the end. You can do so much more, though. If you accept your fate, I will turn you into a god.
With unwavering defiance, Maraak gazed at the beast while spatting blood. "You will only use me as your executioner."
As he pushed Nyxbrand to the floor, a tremendous tremor reverberated throughout the room. The explosion tore through the Blood Eternal's body, causing it to reel.
Its voices broke into a thousand dissonant notes as the monster shouted. Its form wavered, flickering like a dying flame. But it wasn't finished.
The Blood Eternal dissolved into a torrent of shadow, engulfing Maraak in a suffocating void. Time and space lost meaning as he was pulled into the Abyss itself. His sanity was in danger as a clamor of voices tore at his consciousness in whispers.
The voices uttered the words, "You cannot resist forever." "Reaver, you are mine. You have always been.
Focusing on the weight of Nyxbrand in his hand, Maraak clinched his hands. In the engulfing darkness, the blade's faintly glowing runes served as a beacon of resistance.
"No," he answered in a firm, determined voice. "I'm not yours. And I never will be.
He pushed Nyxbrand forward with a burst of willpower, the blade cutting into the very fabric of the emptiness. Around him, light burst forth, causing the darkness to break and the Blood Eternal to flee.
Maraak found himself back in the room when the void collapsed. In front of him, the Blood Eternal reformed, its once-dominant presence now shattered and unsteady.
It growled, "This is impossible." Its words were stained with skepticism.
Maraak advanced, determined in all he did. "I was underestimated by you."
The Blood Eternal raised a hand and summoned a massive energy spear. It threw the weapon, hoping to end the fight with a single blow, using all of its remaining might.
Maraak sidestepped the attack with inhuman speed, closing the distance in an instant. Nyxbrand flashed as he brought it down in a decisive arc, cleaving through the Blood Eternal's core.
The entity let out a final, ear-splitting scream as its form unraveled, dissolving into nothingness.
There was silence in the room. Maraak stood amid the rubble, his hold on Nyxbrand tight, his breathing labored. Now, the blade's murmurs were hardly audible, its sneaky tug diminished to a whisper.
But he still had work to do. The Blood Eternal's residual essence continued to pulse through the spire, its strength posing a threat to all life.
With a low but determined voice, he declared, "This ends here."
Holding Nyxbrand, Maraak turned toward the center of the spire, prepared to take on whatever was coming. The fight for his soul, and the galaxy's destiny, was far from ended.