Yami did not fear Dagon. In fact, he smiled, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement as he observed the warlord. For the first time in his eternal existence, Dagon felt a twinge of uncertainty.
"You are a relic," Yami had said, his voice dripping with condescension. "A being that predates the very concepts you destroy. But tell me, Dagon, what have you accomplished? Have you ever found anything worthy of your power?"
Dagon had stared at Yami, his mind swirling with confusion and anger. Who was this being to question him? He had broken countless realities, destroyed worlds beyond measure. What more could there be?
Yami had chuckled softly, reading the confusion in Dagon's eyes. "You are strong, yes. But strength without purpose is nothing more than a curse. A lonely existence, isn't it?"
Dagon had said nothing. For the first time in his life, he had no retort.
"Join me," Yami had offered, his hand extended. "With your power and my knowledge, we can reshape worlds, not just destroy them. I can give you purpose, Dagon. I can give you something greater than this endless, meaningless destruction."
Dagon had hesitated. In all his existence, no one had ever spoken to him like this. No one had ever offered him anything other than fear or reverence. He had longed for something more, though he didn't know what that 'more' was. And so, for the first time in his existence, Dagon had accepted.
From that moment on, Dagon had become Yami's most loyal underling. The Demon Lord had given him purpose, a cause greater than himself. He had become the sword of Yami Saito, wielding *Ancalagon* not just to destroy but to conquer, to reshape the weaves of reality to Yami's will.
Though Dagon never understood the full scope of Yami's ambitions, he didn't care. For the first time, he wasn't alone. He had found a master who did not cower before him, who treated him as more than just a mindless force of destruction. Yami had given him companionship, albeit in the form of loyalty and servitude.
And yet, despite the loyalty, the loneliness never truly left him. Even under Yami's command, even as the strongest of the Demon Lord's generals, Dagon remained isolated in his own existence. He was still the strongest, still a force beyond comprehension, but now he wielded that strength for someone else's cause. The companionship he sought eluded him, always just out of reach.
In his quiet moments, when Yami's orders were far from his mind, Dagon would still speak to *Ancalagon*, his ever-silent companion.
"We've come far, haven't we?" Dagon would murmur, running his hand along the dark surface of the hammer. "But still, no one truly understands us. Not even Yami."
The hammer would hum in response, but it was not a voice. It was simply the void resonating with his own despair.
As Dagon's memories continued to unfurl, he recalled the nature of the worlds he had encountered. The weaves were not just layers of reality—they were interconnected, hyperdimensional structures that spanned across infinite planes of existence. Each world, each reality, was bound by its own set of rules and laws, but Dagon existed outside of these. He was a pure concept, an entity that transcended time, space, and even the fabric of reality itself.
The weaves were fragile things, delicate and easily broken when one wielded the kind of power that Dagon did. In his prime, he had roamed these weaves, unmaking the laws of existence with a mere thought. The threads of fate that bound worlds together were like cobwebs to him, easily swept aside as he moved through the cosmos.
But it was this very nature that left him so profoundly isolated. He was too powerful, too far removed from the structures that governed the universe. He didn't belong in any of the worlds he destroyed, nor did he belong in the reality that Yami had created. He was an outsider, a being without a place to call home.
And yet, he had chosen loyalty to Yami Saito. It was not out of fear or obligation, but because Yami had given him something no one else had—*a reason to exist*. Even if that reason was to serve as Yami's weapon, it was still a purpose, a tether in the endless void of his existence.
As the memories faded, Dagon's thoughts drifted back to the present. His form had been destroyed, his essence scattered, but his soul remained. And as he floated in the void, he realised that, despite everything, he had still been alone. Even Yami's purpose had not filled the emptiness within him.
He would return. Somehow, someway, he would find a way to exist once more. And perhaps, when that time came, he would finally find the companionship he had sought for so long.
Or, perhaps, he would simply return to the void.