MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

The landscape was a testament to both destruction and creation, an endless expanse of volcanic plains where molten rivers snaked through jagged rock formations, and the very earth seemed to burn with an eternal rage.

Great plumes of sulfurous smoke rose from fissures in the ground, twisting in the thick air like malevolent spirits, disappearing into the dark sky.

The ground itself shuddered with each tremor, as if responding to an unseen force, an ever-present reminder of the power that lay beneath the surface.

It was here, amidst the constant eruptions and the unrelenting heat of the volcanic wasteland, that Taeron Earthshatter stood, an indomitable figure against the backdrop of nature's fury.

His presence alone seemed to quell the ferocity of the surrounding land, as though the earth recognized him, an ancient being to whom it owed its allegiance.

At a towering height of eight feet, Taeron was a sight to behold, his frame massive and imposing, an embodiment of raw, unrestrained power.

His black hair, cut short to avoid interference in battle, framed a face etched with the wisdom and pride of a Titan.

The eyes, dark as the void, held an ancient depth, yet there was no softness to them, only the unrelenting will of one who had endured eons.

His body, thick and barrel-chested, was a perfect testament to the Titan race's sheer might.

Muscles bulged beneath his weathered skin, each sinew carved like granite, capable of withstanding blows that would splinter mountains and shatter stars.

Every movement was a dance of unparalleled precision and power, each step causing the earth to tremble beneath him.

Clad in minimal attire, his body remained largely exposed to the harsh elements, his skin kissed by the ever-present heat of the volcanic plains.

He did not feel the searing heat, for it was nothing compared to the inferno within him.

His bare hands, thick as boulders, rested by his side, the very shape of them a reminder of his might.

They were hands forged by the very earth he stood upon, capable of crushing anything within their grasp.

Taeron's affinity for Earth and Fire was an extension of his being, an integral part of his soul, fused into his muscles, his breath, his heartbeat.

The earth beneath his feet responded to him as if it recognized its master, shifting in reverence with each of his steps.

His every action seemed to manipulate the very fabric of the landscape, the ground rippling in his wake.

The flames of the surrounding lava responded to him as well, flickering higher, as if seeking his approval.

With a deep breath, Taeron lowered himself into a stance, his legs firm, planted in the charred soil.

His immense form seemed to blend with the landscape itself, the rocks beneath him cracking slightly under the weight of his presence.

The molten rivers that ran in endless veins around him swirled with renewed intensity as he gathered his power.

His hands clenched into fists, and a low, rumbling sound vibrated from his chest.

The moment was still.

Then, with a sudden, almost imperceptible shift, his fist collided with the ground before him.

The earth buckled under the impact, fissures spiderwebbing outward from where his hand met the surface.

The volcanic plains seemed to roar in response, the air thickening with the heat of the eruption that followed, as the earth groaned in protest to the force unleashed upon it.

Taeron's punch had not just struck the ground; it had made the very earth quake in reverence.

His affinity for Earth manifested in a raw, unrestrained force, as the volcanic plains trembled under the sheer power of his will.

A shockwave rippled outward from his strike, sending dust and ash flying into the air.

The lava pools bubbled with fury, and the sound of the explosion, of earth shattering and fire surging, echoed for miles.

Taeron's movements were fluid, his focus unwavering as he struck again, his massive fists landing with precision.

His blows were like the strike of a comet against the planet, each one leaving a scar upon the land.

He was not merely striking; he was reshaping the very environment around him, as though the earth itself had become his weapon.

His chest heaved with each movement, yet there was no fatigue.

His breathing, slow and deliberate, did not falter as the world seemed to crack and groan beneath him.

He was in perfect harmony with the volcanic plains, as though they were an extension of his body, his will shaping the land with every pulse of his power.

Each strike of his fists sent tremors through the ground, each impact a symphony of destruction and creation, a reminder of his unrivaled strength.

It was then, amidst this display of overwhelming might, that a shadow flickered at the edge of his perception.

Unseen by the giant, yet undeniable in its presence, the shadow slowly coalesced into a figure, a solitary envoy stepping forward through the fiery haze.

The air around the figure shimmered with heat, yet it held firm against the oppressive warmth, unaffected by the volcanic turmoil that surrounded it.
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The figure, smaller than the Titan but no less resolute, bowed deeply before Taeron.

The bow was respectful, but not trembling.

The envoy knew better than to fear the colossal Titan who stood like a mountain, unmoved by the world around him.

"Lord Earthshatter"

The envoy spoke, his voice booming like thunder across the barren land, unshaken and unwavering.

"The Patriarch demands your presence. He wishes to speak with you"

Taeron's gaze did not shift, his focus entirely on the fiery horizon before him.

He had heard the envoy's words, but the call of battle, the call of creation and destruction, still rang in his ears.

His movements were so fluid, so precise, that not even the envoy's words could disrupt the trance of power in which Taeron found himself.

The envoy stood unmoved, awaiting any sign, any response.

But Taeron did not react, not a single muscle twitching in acknowledgment.

He was a Titan, and to him, the demands of the world outside his own realm of power were inconsequential until he chose to act.

Understanding, the envoy nodded silently, his words having been conveyed.

Without another gesture, he turned and stepped back into the shadows from which he had emerged, vanishing as quickly as he had come, leaving Taeron to continue his unyielding work.

The sound of the volcanic eruption still roared in the distance, the earth continued to quake beneath his feet, and the fire from the molten rivers danced in response to his will.

Taeron Earthshatter, unperturbed, continued his battle with nature, his fists pounding the earth with a ferocity that would reshape the world.

The Titan stood alone, unshaken, unyielding, and eternal.