CHAPTER 1: THE FALL OF TREASURE PLANET 1

CITY OF GOLD.

EREBUS

The palace stretches before me, vast and gleaming, the kind of beauty that humbles you, that makes you feel small. Sunlight pours through towering windows, spilling across the marble floor, where every step echoes like a whisper against the gold-laced walls. The columns rise like giants, dressed in white and crowned with intricate patterns of gold, their surfaces so polished they almost reflect my thoughts. But it isn't him I care about.

It's them.

Ten infinite weapons, laid out like offerings to some forgotten god. Each hums with a power so raw, it feels like the very air might split open. My eyes trace over them—gleaming, dangerous. I can already feel the pull, like they're calling to me.

Goliath's voice breaks the silence, deep and thunderous. "Behold, Erebus. Hast thou eyes to see the power that lieth before thee?"

"Oh, I see them," I murmur, stepping closer, the corner of my mouth twitching. My fingers ache to grab them, to own them.

Goliath raises his hand over the first. "The War Gauntlet, forged in the heart of a star that was, and is no more. One strike shall render the mightiest of armies as chaff before the wind."

I grin, picturing entire legions crumbling beneath my fist.

Next, he gestures to an unassuming box. "This is the Alabaster Box. Though it be small, within it lieth a force that devoureth cities, yea, nations. Open thou it, and the world shall know oblivion."

I chuckle under my breath. Oblivion has a nice ring to it.

Goliath's hand moves to a dark chain. "The Amulet, which turneth the hearts of men. Whosoever weareth it shall command the loyalty of friend and foe alike."

I snort. "They'd follow me anyway."

His gaze sharpens, but he presses on.

"And lo," he says, resting his hand on a gleaming shield, "the Fortitude Shield, against which no weapon formed shall prosper. Behind it, thou art as unto a god—unbroken, unyielding."

I raise an eyebrow. "Sounds like cheating."

"Nay," Goliath rumbles. "It is victory."

I smirk. Fair enough.

His hand hovers over a glowing shard, swirling with light that bends reality itself. "The Time Stone. With it, thou shalt bind the past, the present, and the days yet to come. None shall stand against thee."

Now that… that makes me pause. Time in my hands? The possibilities are endless.

Goliath's voice rolls on, steady and solemn. "The Quiver, whose arrows find their mark, though the earth itself rise to hide the target. The Fortune Helmet, which revealeth the things yet to pass and granteth dominion over them. The Modern Cube, a vessel of chaos, wherein lieth destruction unmeasured. Diment, though small and uncomely, hath power to unmake the very fabric of creation."

I stare at the little orange rock, unimpressed at first—until I feel it, its energy gnawing at the edges of reality itself. Okay… that's dangerous.

"And lastly," Goliath says, his hand resting on a weapon that seems to hum with life, "the Trident. By it shalt thou command the winds, the waters, and the fires of the earth. The elements themselves shall bow before thee."

He steps back, his gaze hard, heavy with expectation. "These weapons are not given unto thee for vanity's sake, Erebus. I have trained ten mighty men, skilled in battle, yet lacking in power. Thou shalt claim these weapons by force, and with them shall we wage war against the Sentry Giants of Valhalla."

I stand there for a moment, letting his words settle, feeling the weight of the task—and the thrill of it. The idea of hunting these weapons down, tearing apart anyone foolish enough to stand in my way—it's intoxicating.

A slow grin spreads across my face. "You want war? I'll bring you war."

Goliath nods, but I see it—the flicker of something behind his eyes. Caution. Fear, maybe. He knows what I am. He knows that once I have these infinite weapons, no one will control me.

I turn back to the arsenal, feeling the pulse of power calling me. One by one, I'll take them. And when I do… even Goliath won't be safe.

Let the fun begin.

TREASURE PLANET

BELTESHAZZAR

I come to, my eyes cracking open against the sting of smoke. The sky above—once a canvas of endless blue—now hangs heavy and dark, choked with ash and dust. The acrid scent of burning metal and flesh invades my lungs, each breath a struggle. I turn my head to the left, the motion slow, painful.

Everything is gone.

The buildings, once towering structures of gold, silver, and diamond, now lie in ruins—twisted metal frames clawing at the heavens, their beauty reduced to charred skeletons. Weapons litter the ground, some melted into unrecognizable lumps, others shattered, their edges blackened by fire. I turn to the right. It's the same there too. Devastation. Silence. I can't remember how it happened. How did Treasure Planet—my home, my pride—fall to this?

I try to rise. My muscles tremble under the effort, but there's no strength left in me. I collapse back to the scorched earth, the rough debris biting into my skin. My breath rasps through my mouth, dry and desperate.

Then, a voice cuts through the suffocating silence.

"Hear me and rejoice." The tone is calm, almost mocking, each word dripping with condescension. Footsteps echo against the rubble, steady, deliberate.

Another voice groans nearby.

I grit my teeth and force my head up. My eyes lock on my elder brother, Hannah. His silver skin, once radiant, is now smeared with soot and blood. He clutches his side where a deep wound seeps dark red, staining the ground beneath him. His legs shake as he tries to stand, but he falters, collapsing onto one knee.

"You have had the privilege of being saved by the Great Helios. You may think this is suffering... No. It is Salvation." The voice grows louder, closer. The footsteps don't stop.

I push myself up, bracing on one knee. My vision blurs, but through the haze, I see him—the source of the voice.

He stands at the heart of the ruin, a figure carved from nightmares and smoke. His skin, dark as scorched iron, gleams beneath the flickering glow of distant fires, stretched tight over sharp bones that seem immune to the heat. The air is thick with ash and the stench of burnt flesh, but he doesn't flinch—those dead, unblinking eyes glow like embers, staring through the haze with a hunger that defies death itself. His jagged armor clings to him, charred and cracked from countless battles, yet he moves like power incarnate, untouched by the destruction around him. Behind him, the ground is littered with bodies, their twisted forms frozen in agony, but it's him—only him—that makes the fire in my chest feel cold.

"Universal scales tip toward balance because of your sacrifice... Smile." He pauses, as if savoring the silence, then continues, "For even in death, you have become sons of Emperor Erebus."

I follow his gaze past the corpses, past the wreckage, and my heart sinks.

There, standing amidst the carnage, is my father.

King Issachar.

His once-majestic form is now marred by wounds—deep gashes across his face and body, blood seeping from every inch of torn flesh. He grips his stomach, trying to stem the bleeding, his breath ragged. But somehow, he stands.

"Father..." My voice cracks, weak. "How... How did this happen?"

His eyes, hollow and pained, flick to me. He doesn't answer.

"Behind you." His voice is barely more than a whisper.

I freeze.

"I know what it's like to lose," another voice rumbles, deeper and more menacing than the first, "To feel so desperately that you're right..."

I turn slowly, my body screaming in protest, and there he is.

A monstrous figure towers over me, eight feet of pure menace. His broad shoulders and defined arms ripple with unnatural strength. His dark grey skin seems to absorb the dim light, making the crimson and gold of his armor burn even brighter. The flame-like patterns across his chest pulse with each of his slow, deliberate breaths. His boots, armored to the knees, crush the debris beneath him with each step forward.

His face is hidden behind a helmet—red and gold, angular, with sharp, clean lines that give him the look of a machine forged for war. Only his eyes are visible, glowing with a red so intense it feels like they could burn holes through my soul.

Thick, heavy bracelets wrap around his wrists, their metallic sheen matching the rest of his armor.

"Yet to fail, nonetheless," he mutters, stepping closer. His voice reverberates in my chest like a drumbeat of doom.

Before I can react, his massive hand shoots out, grabbing my shirt and lifting me effortlessly off the ground. My feet dangle, scraping against the debris as I struggle to breathe.

"It's frightening, isn't it?" His voice is calm, almost thoughtful. "Turns the legs to jelly. But I ask you, to what end? Dread it, run from it..." He leans in, his glowing eyes inches from mine, "Destiny arrives all the same. And now, it's here. Or should I say... I am."

With that, he drops me unceremoniously to the ground. I barely have time to gasp before his hand clamps down on my head, forcing me to my knees. His grip tightens, the pressure mounting.

"You speak too much," I hiss through clenched teeth, trying to mask the fear coursing through me.

From the corner of my eye, I see my father step forward, his face a mask of pain and resignation.

"The War Gauntlet or your son's head?" The strange creature sneers, his fingers digging deeper into my skull. "I assume you have a preference."

My father's eyes meet mine, a silent conversation passing between us.

"Oh, I do," he says quietly.

The pressure on my head increases. Pain explodes behind my eyes, my groans turning into screams as the Strange Being's grip threatens to crush my skull.

"All right, stop!" My father's voice cracks, the desperation undeniable. "Stop!"

The being halts, though his hand still grips me tightly.

Gasping for air, I manage to choke out, "We don't have the War Gauntlet. It was destroyed before you arrived."

My father's gaze flickers with guilt. Slowly, deliberately, he clenches his right fist.

And then it happens.

The Gauntlet materializes around his arm, metal shards sliding across his skin like liquid mercury, locking into place with a hiss and click. It forms seamlessly, each segment interlocking like a puzzle, glowing faintly with power. The technology is sleek, almost alive, responding to his movements as if it's an extension of his very soul.

The strange being's eyes gleam with satisfaction.

"Perfect," he murmurs.

I glare at my father, betrayal tightening my chest. "You disappoint me, Father."

His eyes soften, but his voice is firm. "I had to. I can't watch you die."

The strange creature laughs, the sound hollow and chilling. "Your optimism is misplaced, Treasurer."

"Well, for one thing, you will never be a god in the multiverse. And for another... we have Red Son."

Before the strange creature even registers my father's words, the sky explodes in a blinding flash of red light. A comet of raw, burning energy plummets from the heavens, faster than my eyes can track. The air vibrates with a deafening sonic boom as Red Son crashes into the strange being like a missile, his fists driving into his chest with the force of a collapsing star.

The impact is cataclysmic.

The ground beneath them shatters, sending jagged cracks spiderwebbing across the battlefield. The being is launched backward, his massive form tearing through the dirt like a ragdoll, skidding until he smashes into a crumbling stone pillar. Dust and debris cloud the air, but through it, I see him—hovering above the ground, his entire body blazing with that unnatural, crimson photon energy. His eyes glow like molten lava, locked onto the strange being with a fury that seems almost divine.

But he isn't down for long.

With a guttural roar, he rips himself free from the rubble, his right arm pulsing violently, veins of purple energy snaking up his arm. He doesn't bother with words. Instead, he slams his fist into the ground, unleashing a shockwave of raw power that races toward Red Son like a tidal wave, tearing the earth apart in its wake.

But he's already moving.

Red Son dives straight through the wave, his fists glowing hotter, brighter. He closes the distance in an instant, slamming his knee into the strange being's face with a crack that echoes across the battlefield. His head snaps back, but he retaliates with a wild, brutal swing of his arm. A purple energy lashes out, catching Red Son mid-air and sending him crashing into the ground with a thunderous boom.

The ground quakes beneath my feet, but he's not down. Not even close.

Before the dust settles, Red Son erupts from the crater, a streak of red light cutting through the chaos. He tackles the Being mid-stride, lifting him off his feet, and drives him through a wall of jagged stone. The force sends shockwaves that ripple through the battlefield, the air crackling with energy. He doesn't let up—his fists become a blur, pounding into Strange creature armored chest, each strike detonating like a bomb.

But the strange being is a Helios for a reason.

With a savage grunt, he catches both Red Son fists in his massive hands. The ground buckles beneath them as their energies clash—red photon against purple power—the sheer force of it threatening to tear the very air apart. His grip tightens, and with a violent twist, he hurls Red Son into the sky like a meteor.

But he stops himself mid-flight, hovering there for a split second before he plummets back down, faster, fiercer. His entire body ignites, transforming into a living missile of red light. He slams into the Strange Being with enough force to send a shockwave that flattens everything around them. Even from where I stand, I feel the heat searing my skin.

For a moment, it looks like Red Son might have him.

But then… the Strange Creature laughs.

It's a deep, cruel sound that cuts through the chaos like a blade. His right arm glows, his fist flaring brighter than ever before. With a roar, he channels its energy into one devastating blast, point-blank into Red Son chest.

The explosion is blinding.

I'm thrown backward, hitting the ground hard as the shockwave tears through the battlefield. When the dust clears, I see him— Red Son—lying motionless in a crater, his red glow flickering weakly.

The Strange Creature stands over him, battered but unbroken, his fist gleaming triumphantly. He looks at us with that same cold, unfeeling gaze.

And in that moment, I realize… we are doomed.

I lunge at him, my fist smashing into his face with everything I've got. But he just smiles—a slow, cruel curl of his lips—as if my punch was nothing more than a soft breeze.

His foot slams into my chest like a sledgehammer. The force sends me flying backward, my body tumbling over the cracked ground until I skid to a stop. Pain explodes in my ribs, but I force myself to breathe through it, gasping as I struggle to rise.

"You disappoint me, Belteshazzar..." His voice cuts through the air like a blade, deep and resonant, vibrating with an unnatural menace. "I knew you as the strongest fighter on this planet—and on Earth. Now, look at you… pathetic. Unworthy. Untrained."

I stagger to my feet, blinking through the haze of pain. "Who… who are you, stranger?" My voice is hoarse, but defiant.

He strides toward me, his towering frame casting a shadow that swallows the light around him. "Stranger?" He laughs—a low, chilling sound that reverberates through my bones. "I am Erebus, the mighty Emperor of Megan Planet."

Before I can react, his hand clamps around my head, his grip like iron. Effortlessly, he lifts me off the ground, my legs dangling uselessly beneath me. My heart pounds in my chest, but I can't let him see my fear.

Erebus turns, his eyes locking onto my father. "I will say this for the last time…" His voice drops, cold and final. "The War Gauntlet… or your son's head?"

My father's face is etched with agony, torn between his love for me and the duty that Gauntlet represents. Slowly, he rises, his hand trembling as he removes the Gauntlet from his right arm. The metallic surface glints under the dim light as he extends it toward Erebus.

"Excellent," Erebus purrs, his smile widening. "You made the right choice." He tosses me aside like a ragdoll, and I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.

Then, his gaze hardens. "Abaddon… kill him."

From the shadows, the creature I first saw when I woke up steps forward. His eyes gleam with a malevolent light as he clenches his left fist.

What happens next shatters my soul.

My father's body begins to contort, his limbs twisting at unnatural angles. His arms wrench backward until they snap with sickening cracks. His legs follow, twisting grotesquely until they tear from their sockets. His neck jerks violently, bones snapping, before his head rips free from his shoulders.

But it doesn't end there.

His mutilated body turns rigid, like stone, the color draining from his flesh as it hardens into a brittle, lifeless statue. The severed limbs, too, petrify—before all of it crumbles into dust and shards, scattering like ashes in the wind.

I can't breathe. I can't think. All I can do is stare at the broken remains of the man who raised me.

"There are five more weapons on Earth," Erebus announces, his voice echoing across the desolation. "Find them, fighters, and bring them to me in Gavaria Kingdom."

His assistants drop to their knees, their voices a unified chant of loyalty. "Master, we will not fail you."

Erebus turns back to me, his dark eyes boring into mine. "What should I do with you, Belteshazzar?"

I choke down my grief, my voice a ragged whisper. "Kill me. You've taken everything… my home, my parents, my friend. I don't deserve to live."

"As you wish."

His hand wraps around my throat, and the pressure builds. My vision blurs as he squeezes, crushing the life out of me. The world fades, and I teeter on the edge of oblivion.

But then—

"I hope you haven't forgotten me, Erebus."

The voice snaps me back. Weakly, I turn my head to see Hannah rising to his feet, his face pale but resolute.

"Spare my brother's life," Hannah says, his voice steady despite the tremor in his limbs. "And take mine. I, Hannah, the crown prince of Treasure Planet—the Silver Prince—will lay down my life for my brother. Kill me… and spare him."

Erebus's grip loosens just enough for me to gasp in a breath. He studies Hannah, curiosity flickering across his face. "Why should I?"

"Because it's my responsibility to protect him," Hannah says, his eyes never wavering. "Because… I love him."

For a moment, silence stretches between them, thick and suffocating. Then, Erebus drops me to the ground like discarded trash.

"Gordon," he commands, his voice dripping with malice, "eliminate him."

And then Gordon steps forward.

Before us stands a colossal figure, its skin a deep, blood-red hue that gleams under the faintest light, like polished crimson stone. The texture is rough and scarred, each mark a testament to wars fought and survived. Muscles bulge beneath the rugged surface, veins like thick black cords snaking across his arms and chest, pulsing with an unnatural life force.

His bare torso is a canvas of violence, each scar a story written in flesh. His chest rises and falls with slow, deliberate breaths, radiating raw, unrelenting power. From his broad shoulders extend four massive arms, each one thick and sinewy, ending in calloused hands capable of crushing bone with ease.

His head is smooth and elongated, a pronounced brow casting shadows over piercing yellow eyes that glow like molten gold. Black markings streak down his face, giving him the look of an ancient warlord poised for his next conquest.

Rugged black trousers cling to his powerful legs, torn and frayed from countless battles. On his feet are old army boots, their cracked leather and worn soles a testament to his unyielding endurance.

This isn't a man. He's a living monument to brutality.

Gordon grips Hannah's arms with his upper set of hands, locking them in a vice-like hold. His lower arms seize Hannah's legs. The monster's lips curl into a savage grin, and without hesitation, he rips the legs clean off.

The sound—oh God, the sound—is a sickening symphony of tearing flesh and shattering bone. Blood spurts from the gaping wounds, pooling around Hannah's body. But Gordon isn't done. He tosses the severed legs aside like discarded toys, then yanks Hannah's arms from their sockets with a brutal, twisting motion.

My brother—my brave, foolish brother—is left a limbless, twitching torso.

Gordon's final act of cruelty comes swiftly. He raises one massive foot and stomps down on Hannah's skull. The wet crack echoes through the desolate air, and when he pulls his foot back, there's nothing left but a crimson smear.

"You shall die with your planet," Erebus sneers, his gaze locking onto me, his smile twisted with triumph.

He raises his right hand, and from the dust and sand at his feet, he conjures a miniature planet, a perfect replica of Treasure Planet. Slowly, deliberately, he squeezes.

And as he does, the world around me erupts in flames.

The ground trembles. The sky splits open. The air itself burns as my planet—the place of my birth, my memories, my family—dies.

Erebus opens a swirling blue portal, his assistants following him into the void. His parting glance is one of cold amusement, as if all of this—my pain, my loss—was nothing more than a game.

As the flames consume everything, I close my eyes, the screams of my people echoing in my ears.

Treasure Planet is no more.

To be continued....