Monarchs of Ruination

"It's been a wild ride, brother."

With those final words, Lucas drew his sword and, in a single, decisive motion, plunged it into his heart.

Drip.

Golden blood spilled onto the ground.

A black sword now pierced through Lucas' chest, held by NOX. His hands trembled with the weight of the act, yet he gripped the hilt firmly, unwilling to let go—unable to bring himself to cause any more pain to his brother than necessary.

Blood leaked from Lucas' mouth, but he smiled weakly.

Leaning into NOX's shoulder, he rested his head there, whispering softly, "Thank you, brother."

"If there's a next life... I'll let you be the selfish one." His final words hung in the air, and Lucas exhaled his last breath against NOX's shoulder.

Time seemed to stretch in the wake of his passing.

NOX stood frozen, as though afraid to move, unwilling to face the truth that his friend was truly gone.

He wanted this moment to last forever.

But he knew—deep down—he was in denial.

He couldn't feel the warmth of Lucas' breath against his shoulder anymore. But still, his mind clung to that last, fragile connection, refusing to process the reality of the situation.

NOX forgot, in his grief, to command time to stop, as he now could. Time continued to move forward, indifferent to his sorrow.

As it did, Lucas' body slowly disintegrated into golden particles, the wind carrying his ashes as if nature itself was bearing witness to the cycle of life and death.

'Lucas' Dharma returns to Nature. As such is the Natural Law of the Dharma Cycle.'

NOX stood silently, unaware that tears were staining his face, his sorrow so deep that it manifested as blood. He was crying blood—each drop a symbol of his anguish.

Then, it hit him. The overwhelming truth. He had killed his best friend.

His body went limp, as if his very soul had been drained. He almost collapsed to the ground, the weight of the realization crushing him.

Gasp.

Gasp.

He couldn't breathe. His mind was too lost in the horror of the moment to remember how.

NOX gripped his chest, trying to force the air in, but his lungs betrayed him. His body, once so powerful, now seemed alien to him, as though it was no longer his own.

The panic overtook him.

His heart raced, his thoughts scattered, and a suffocating wave of terror swept through him.

The world round him distorted. 

[The Unrecorded Divinity is concerned!]

[The Unrecorded Divinity using its Authority to help its wielder breathe!]

A surge of energy forced air into NOX's lungs, but it felt mechanical, foreign. He gasped in sudden relief, the air feeling sharp and cold in his chest.

"Dammit... dammit... dammit." NOX cursed through gritted teeth.

Then, a scream—raw and primal—tore itself from his throat, shaking his body with the force of his grief and rage.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

His voice echoed across the void, the sound of his pain reverberating with terrifying power.

Sorrow, guilt, anger—all of it spiraled out of control, feeding into the power that his Divinity demanded. The more intense the emotions, the stronger his strength became.

His strength grew exponentially, and as his power surged, his eyes began to pierce through the fabric of reality. He saw beyond the limits of space and time, beyond the physical realm itself.

And then, he saw them.

The schemers.

The ones who had taken everything from him.

For the first time, their presence became clear. He could see them—those bastards.

"Hahahahaha…" NOX laughed and cried in the same breath.

"Hello… you bastards." His voice was thick with sarcasm, but underneath, there was an unmistakable sadness.

"I can finally see your disgusting forms… Did you enjoy the show?" He taunted them, but the shadows remained silent, simply watching.

With each passing moment, NOX's strength and voice grew ancient, reaching a depth that shook the very core of existence.

"Pray.

Pray that my journey ends before its course is fulfilled.

Pray that my feet never tread upon the Heavens.

Pray!

Lest your prayers fall upon deaf ears.

For if I rise from ruin, if I walk unbroken from the abyss—

I shall march upon the Heavens as the harbinger of The Crimson Reign.

The sky shall weep feathers, falling as an endless shroud beneath my feet.

The golden rivers shall break their course, bending to quench my thirst.

And in my wake, there shall be no battle, no cry, no plea—

Only absolute silence shall remain to mourn the fall of Heaven."

NOX's words, once a simple warning, now became the terrifying Prophecy of Heaven's Fall.

The existence itself trembled at his voice. His words painted visions of destruction that filled every corner of creation.

For the first time, the schemers in the shadows showed fear—not for the prophecy, but for the ancient voice they recognized all too well.

They feared what NOX had become.

NOX no longer cared about taunting them or seeking answers. The only thing that mattered was ending this nightmare.

Without hesitation, without delay—he initiated [Ruination]. 

*********

NOX turned his attention to his Omnipotent Concept. He had long suspected that he gained this power through someone's scheme, yet he had never cared—not then, not now.

Because, by sheer coincidence or design, this very Concept had granted him an Ultimate Skill—one capable of erasing existence itself.

Before this nightmare began, NOX's goal had always been to obtain the [Universe Core]. The apocalypse he initiated was merely a necessary event, a means to draw the attention of VRITRA and Garuda.

But the first true deviation from his plan had occurred when he stumbled upon the forces of [Nothingness] and [Destruction] leaking from a spatial crack.

Until that moment, he hadn't even known how to initiate Ruination, the cataclysm that would end all worlds. He had been nothing more than a feeble ant wielding a pathetic, pseudo-Concept.

Yet, in that single moment of choice, he had corrupted those Concepts—stepping onto the landmine set by an unseen schemer.

From that point, the chains of fate had shifted.

The second deviation came when he obtained two branch skills of his Concept—[The Unmaking] and [Destruction Immunity]. These abilities, conveniently gained mere moments before, were the only reason he survived VRITRA.

The third deviation was the moment he witnessed a shadowy figure dancing—a mere motion of its form effortlessly creating and destroying an entire Plane of Existence.

The fourth came with the appearance of the Sprout of Existence.

Fifth...

Sixth, and so on.....

Each of these had been unplanned, events beyond NOX's calculations.

It was as if unseen forces had laid out opportunities—schemes disguised as fate—and NOX had unknowingly stepped onto them, triggering a chain reaction beyond his control.

Of course, had he ignored [Nothingness], dismissed it as mere Void, things might have turned out differently. Perhaps he would have walked into another trap, another landmine waiting for him.

But that no longer mattered.

This was the path NOX had chosen. And now, it was time to finish it.

Now, about his Concept's Ultimate Skill—[Destruction Descent].

NOX commanded his [Pathos Emotion System] to display the information.

[Destruction Descent]: The price of power is steep. To invoke this skill, the user must offer a sacrifice to the Primordial Guardian of Destruction—a tangible representation of their devotion. A treasured weapon might bring a localized tremor, while a piece of their own life force could shatter mountains. But the ultimate sacrifice, the one whispered in hushed tones, is a devotion so complete that it compels the Primordial Guardian's own descent—a cataclysmic event that reshapes the very fabric of Creation.

As NOX read the description, he muttered to himself:

A weapon can cause a tremor.

A piece of my life can shatter mountains.

What about every life, every soul, every celestial body?

The universe?

Existence itself?

And what if I offer my Cosmic Dance as proof of my devotion?

Would that be enough to summon the Primordial Guardian of Destruction?

A nagging thought whispered in the back of NOX's mind—the shadowy figure he had seen before… Could it be the Guardian itself?

But speculation was meaningless.

At this moment, NOX had met the two primary conditions to unleash his Ultimate Skill—Devotion and Sacrifice.

And without hesitation, without flinching—he made his offering.

He offered everything.

Every universe tied to him.

Every soul bound to existence.

Everything that could be called "Existence."

And to prove his Devotion, he offered something else.

His Cosmic Dance.

His Eyes.

Why his eyes?

Because he couldn't afford to take risks.

What if his Cosmic Dance alone wasn't enough?

What if the shadowy figure and the Primordial Guardian of Destruction weren't the same entity?

At this moment, hesitation meant failure.

So he offered a piece of himself as proof of absolute submission.

And then, NOX waited….

Nothing happened...

No energy fluctuations…

No shift in the cosmic forces…

An eerie silence fell upon everything….

For the first time, doubt crept into NOX's mind. Was my devotion not enough?

And then—

Existence itself trembled.

White tendrils of ash, once tethered to NOX, disintegrated at an alarming rate.

The Primordial Guardian of Destruction had accepted the offering.

Before NOX could even comprehend the magnitude of what was happening—

He saw it.

A foot.

A gigantic foot so vast that entire universes were mere dust beneath it.

It moved, descending toward him—toward Existence itself.

The Descent of Destruction had begun.

And in this moment, NOX had finally fulfilled his Cursed Destiny - The Bringer of Ruination.