A thousand glowing threads of destiny shimmered behind him as Ashur-ll'Zhara said "He is destined to *fall.* By my hand."
Tian's eyes shimmered with relief and fear. "Then do it."
Ashur placed his hand over Tian's fading chest of starlight and pulled a string which using his authority as a primordial god of fate he separated it into two string. The titan screamed as his soul was separated into two, and with a whisper in the forgotten tongue of the Primordial Elder Gods, he *willed* it so.
Threads of existence surged. Light and darkness twisted, tearing the fabric of soul and corruption apart.
***
*Outside*, time resumed like an explosion.
Omary gasped as his system flared — the moment stolen now returned in full force. His blade clashed once more with the silent, hulking figure of the The dark king.
But something had changed.
The figure reeled back. Cracks shattered across its obsidian-like skin. And from within, a scream — ancient, formless, monstrous — *ripped* into the fabric of space.
And then, it was done.
The *Dark King*, once a presence tangled with Tian's soul, now stood *separate* — reborn.
His body grew — from titan-sized to boundless. Veins of black starfire burned across his limbs. He floated above the battlefield like a god of extinction. The skies darkened, and reality twisted beneath his feet.
"I AM FREE," he roared, no longer bound by morality, no longer tethered to the goodness of Tian. "I AM THE DARK TITAN, MORTALS . BOW AND BEG BEFORE YOUR DOOM."
I WILL CALL THE ELDRITCH LEGIONS. I WILL FINISH WHAT MY MASTER BEGAN."
Armies across the infinite world inside Tian's body trembled in despair. Even Omary, blessed with a system and endless potential, faltered in the shadow of this rebirth.
The *Dark Titan's* presence was too vast.
Too old.
Too alien.
Omary and his companions — Neila, Excap, Krokoa — could only watch as the sky peeled open above them, a tear in the veil of reality as *primordial chaos* began to seep through. Tentacles of unreality. Screeches of forgotten things.
Despair crept into the bones of all who saw it.
And then—
A *voice* answered.
It was calm. Final. Cold.
*"That will not happen."*
All looked up.
Above the Dark Titan, descending from nothingness and everything, was *Ashur-ll'Zhara*, the Primordial Elder God of Fate.
His cloak was made of stars long dead. His eyes, the balance of possibility and doom. Still in the form of the gray alien, he descend.
He floated above them all, opposite the Dark Titan, arms crossed.
They locked eyes.
The Dark Titan grinned. "You dare interfere again, little Fate?"
Ashur-ll'Zhara didn't blink. Only reply with certainty
"You are *fated* to fall by my hand."
" HOW ARROGANT YOUNG PRIMORDIAL. LET ME GET YOU OUT OF THE WELL."
And for a moment, the chaos held its breath.
Two gods. Two ancient powers. One of destruction. One of fate.
They watched each other.
Both waiting.
Not speaking.
The Dark Titan raised his colossal arms, and the cosmos shuddered.
A tide of power unlike anything ever seen surged forth — not energy, but the very unraveling of reality. Stars melted. Timelines collapsed. Every law, constant, and truth within the universe twisted into contradiction, compressed, and fired like an multiversal bullet toward *Ashur-ll'Zhara*.
Omary's system screamed. The alien warriors around him collapsed under the pressure. His companions, Neila and Excap, were frozen in awe and dread.
"This… this isn't power," Omary whispered, stunned. "It's… *destruction incarnate*. That blast is like an exploding multiverse…"
The blast approached — a storm of annihilation large enough to blot out the concept of existence.
But Ashur-ll'Zhara did not move.
His hands remained behind his back. His form glowed faintly, surrounded by an ethereal aura made not of energy — but *certainty*.
And as the apocalyptic tide reached him…
Ashur-ll'Zhara spoke with the authority of fate.
"*That attack… is fated to disappear.*"
And *It vanished.*
Like dust in wind.
Not dispersed, not absorbed — *erased from fate itself*.
A stunned silence fell across the battlefield.