The battlefield had quieted, the remnants of the demon army scattered, and the defenders of Eden were finally able to catch their breath. Jareth stood with Lyra near the city gates, both of them prepared to return inside and plan the next steps. But as the skies above the Demonlands darkened, a sudden, unnatural storm brewed in the distance.
Lightning cracked across the horizon, followed by deafening thunder that shook the earth. The air grew heavy with malevolence.
"What now?" Jareth muttered, gripping the hilt of his blade tightly.
Before Lyra could respond, ten massive portals opened in the storm clouds, each one swirling with dark energy. From each portal emerged a hooded figure, their forms cloaked in shadow. Their presence was suffocating, their power far beyond anything Jareth had ever faced. Even in his Godform, he instinctively knew—he could take on one, perhaps two, but against all ten, he stood no chance.
"Who… are they?" Lyra's voice trembled as she took a step back, her usual resolve shaken.
Bahamut's voice echoed through Jareth's mind, louder and angrier than ever. "THE EVIL GODS."
The words sent chills down Jareth's spine.
The Arrival of Bahamut's Twin
Jareth's body began to glow as Bahamut, consumed by rage, forcefully transformed him into his Godform. His fiery wings erupted, his scales burned with divine fury, and his sword roared to life with an inferno. Without hesitation, Bahamut's presence within him surged forward, directing Jareth to charge straight at the middle hooded figure.
The figure lowered his hood, revealing a face that was eerily similar to Bahamut's—yet twisted with darkness. His scales were pitch-black, his horns curved menacingly, and his eyes glowed with a cold, malevolent light.
"TENEBRIS," Bahamut growled, his voice filled with fury and anguish. "YOU DARE SHOW YOUR FACE HERE?!"
The dark dragon smirked, his voice smooth yet mocking. "Brother. It's been far too long."
With a roar of rage, Jareth—driven by Bahamut's fury—lunged at Tenebris, aiming to pierce his neck. But before his blade could land, Tenebris raised a claw, catching it effortlessly.
"Calm yourself, brother," Tenebris said with a sinister grin. "We're not here to fight. Not yet."
Jareth struggled against Tenebris's overwhelming strength, but before he could act, four of the other hooded figures moved with unnatural speed. Two grabbed his arms, two more his legs, pinning him in place. Another hooded figure grabbed Bahamut's tail, immobilizing him completely.
Inside the city, Lyra and the defenders looked on in terror. The power radiating from these beings was beyond anything they had encountered. Even from a distance, the sheer pressure made it hard to breathe.
Bahamut's Wrath and Pain
Jareth could feel Bahamut's emotions boiling within him—anger, sorrow, and an unbearable weight of grief. The words that followed hit Jareth like a hammer to the chest.
"I HAVE NO BROTHER LIKE YOU! YOU KILLED MY WIFE, MY PARTNER!" Bahamut's voice cracked with pain. "YOU TOOK FROM ME THE ONLY LIGHT I HAD! AND YOU EXPECT ME TO FORGIVE YOU?!"
Tenebris's smirk faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "She was a casualty of war, Bahamut. Nothing more. You let your emotions cloud your judgment."
"DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK HER NAME!" Bahamut roared through Jareth, his flames burning brighter. "YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME! YOU ARE NO BROTHER OF MINE!"
Jareth felt Bahamut's grief as if it were his own, the sorrow so intense it nearly brought him to his knees. His rage flared in tandem with Bahamut's, his body straining against the gods holding him down.
The Offer of the Evil Gods
Tenebris stepped closer, his tone softening but his malice ever-present. "Listen to me, brother. This war is pointless. It has gone on for far too long. Join us. Join the Evil Gods, and together we can end this conflict once and for all."
Bahamut's fury only grew, his voice shaking the heavens. "JOIN YOU?! YOU WANT ME TO BECOME A SLAVE LIKE YOU? A LOWLY PAWN IN SOMEONE ELSE'S GAME? YOU CALL YOURSELF GODS, BUT YOU'RE NOTHING MORE THAN FOOLS DANCING TO THE WHIMS OF YOUR MASTER!"
The hooded gods holding Jareth tightened their grips, visibly annoyed by Bahamut's words. One of them hissed, "How much longer must we waste time with this insolent dragon? He thinks far too highly of himself."
Tenebris raised a claw, silencing them. "Let him speak. Let him rage. It changes nothing."
The Standoff
Lyra watched from the gates, her hands trembling as she gripped her weapon. The defenders stood frozen in fear, unsure of how to act.
"What can we do against that?" one of the soldiers whispered.
Lyra gritted her teeth, her mind racing. "We hold the line. No matter what happens, we cannot let them take the city."
Back on the battlefield, Tenebris leaned in close, his smirk returning. "The rules are simple, Bahamut. Power must match power. No one can intervene unless they hold the same strength. You know this."
Jareth, still pinned, glared at Tenebris. "Why now? Why show yourselves now?"
Tenebris chuckled. "Because the game is reaching its climax, little mortal. And we are here to ensure it ends the way it should."
Jareth's flames flared, his voice merging with Bahamut's. "THIS ISN'T A GAME! THESE ARE LIVES YOU'RE PLAYING WITH!"
Tenebris stepped back, his expression unreadable. "It's always a game, brother. Always."
With a wave of his claw, Tenebris and the other Evil Gods vanished, leaving only the echoes of their laughter behind.
The Aftermath
As the storm cleared, Jareth collapsed to one knee, his Godform fading. The battlefield was silent, save for the distant sound of retreating demon forces.
Lyra rushed to his side, her voice filled with concern. "Jareth! Are you okay?"
He didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the sky where the Evil Gods had disappeared.
"We're running out of time," he finally said, his voice heavy.
Lyra clenched her fists. "Then we'll be ready. Whatever it takes, we'll stop them."
Jareth nodded, determination replacing the despair in his eyes. "They've made their move. Now it's our turn."