Prince_06

In a world where imagination births power—called uncos—Amari has none. Branded cursed and cast aside, he escapes slavery only to find himself in a society ruled by celestial artifacts, divine oppression, and fractured ideals. As gods wage silent wars and cities shimmer with false hope, Amari must navigate a reality where strength is everything—and he has none to claim.

But chains don’t just bind the body. They shape the soul. And Amari’s soul is beginning to stir.

With nothing but grit, loyalty, and a defiant heart, he walks the line between myth and mortality, hunted by secrets older than the stars. In a tale of betrayal, survival, and the quiet power of choice, Ragnarök, Eternal Tragedy asks: Can a boy without magic rewrite the fate of gods?

Ragnarök, Eternal Tragedy.

Lionel stood opposite Amari—posture loose, gaze unreadable, the same grin carved lightly across his face like no blade had dared scrape it off. The man who had once built a kingdom from dust and divine departure didn't look tired. Didn't look afraid. He was moving fast, striking clean—but not seriously. Not yet.

Every time their blades clashed, every time the Kusarigama hissed through air and Lionel redirected the arc with wrist and shoulder alone, it wasn't just defense. It was evaluation.

Behind them, the orchestra of war kept playing—

Milo froze time again—twice in quick bursts—stacking clone formations around collapsing soldiers.

Johnny deflected another spear barrage with rod sweeps that bent physics in bursts.

Maverick issued commands that cracked through skulls and folded lungs into silence.

Found Nothing