A War Beyond Fate

"Power is the only thing that everyone desires—whether they are weak or strong. But these mere fools will never understand what true power really is…"

Inside the Zero Society's research facility, Vasudev lay unconscious, suspended within an energy barrier. Beside him stood Samriddhi and Abinash, watching over his still form.

Abinash held a stack of documents—Vasudev's academy records. He skimmed through them and read aloud:

"Name: Vasudev. Age: 17.

Last month, he single-handedly wiped out an entire horde of Yetis."

He smirked. "Interesting…"

Before he could say more, a powerful gust of wind erupted through the room.

The containment barrier around Vasudev began to crack.

Samriddhi's expression darkened. "Impossible…! A fracture in the barrier? That means someone is coming… from within Kaalchakra!"

The cracks spread like lightning, and in an instant—the barrier shattered into nothingness.

A voice echoed through the room.

"Won't you welcome me, Abinash?"

Emerging from the broken barrier stood Divya, the Primordial Princess.

Behind her, Vasudev stood tall—but something about him had changed. One of his eyes was completely black, while the other gleamed with golden light.

Abinash let out a small chuckle. "Primordial Princess, Divya... Welcome, welcome."

Divya, unfazed by his tone, stepped forward.

"Save the pleasantries for another time. I have urgent matters to attend to."

She walked past them toward Vasudev's sword, resting on a nearby pedestal.

Samriddhi, still in shock at seeing someone step out of Kaalchakra, turned to speak—but before she could, Abinash subtly gestured for her to remain silent.

Divya picked up the sword and handed it to Vasudev.

Then, turning back, she cast a sharp glare at Abinash.

"Next time, stay out of my way… Mr. Abinash."

Her voice carried a dangerous edge.

Without another word, she and Vasudev walked out of the room.

As soon as they left, Abinash let out a low chuckle. Then it grew louder. Then louder—until he was laughing like a madman.

Samriddhi took a cautious step forward, confused. "Are you… okay?"

Abinash's laughter slowly faded into a smirk. "You truly are a piece of work, Divya…"

He turned on his heel and left the room.

Just as Abinash was about to leave, something made him pause.

He turned back and began searching frantically through the storage shelves.

Samriddhi, watching him in confusion, hesitated before asking, "What are you looking for?"

Abinash ignored her, his hands moving with purpose. Then, he found it.

A sword—black from hilt to tip.

Intricate golden inscriptions ran along its blade, glowing faintly.

Samriddhi's eyes widened. "That sword… It looks divine. Where did you get it?"

Abinash slowly turned toward her, his expression unreadable.

"This is not just any sword... This blade belonged to the Last Destructor—Vikram."

Before Samriddhi could respond, the golden inscriptions on the sword suddenly flared to life, radiating an intense energy.

A voice boomed from the blade—

"FLAMES OF DEATH: RED FLAME!"

The energy from the sword surged through the room. The very walls trembled under its presence.

Darkness clouded their vision for a moment.

Then—a blinding flash of white light.

A Battlefield of Fire and Blood – The Eastern War (178 Years Ago)

When their vision cleared, Samriddhi and Abinash were no longer in the research room.

Instead, they stood in the middle of a battlefield drenched in blood and fire.

A lone warrior stood in the center, gripping the very sword they had just seen.

The land around them was scorched. The air was thick with the scent of burning flesh.

A mocking voice echoed through the flames.

"Still alive, Destructor? How long will you keep running?"

A massive, flaming chain whipped through the battlefield, striking the ground with a thunderous impact.

A shadowed figure stepped through the flames, his eyes glowing with eerie blue light.

"People call me the Demon Lord's right hand… ORION."

He twirled the massive chain around his arm, its edges glowing red-hot.

Across from him, standing amidst the destruction—Vikram, the Last Destructor.

"Running?" Vikram scoffed, his voice filled with disdain. "You think I am running?"

Suddenly, the sky turned blood-red.

The ground beneath Orion shook violently.

Vikram took a single step forward—and the very land beneath him vanished into the void.

"Do you really think they call me the strongest just for show?"

Orion let out a laugh, spinning his chain faster. "You fools… You will never understand true power."

A crimson glow radiated from the chain as he swung it toward Vikram.

With a flick of his wrist, Orion sent his Death Reaper Chain hurtling toward Vikram.

Vikram's golden eyes narrowed.

"ATOMIC DESTRUCTION!"

An explosive shockwave erupted from Vikram's sword, colliding with the chain.

The battlefield shook as flames and shadows clashed violently.

Orion smirked, unfazed. "You don't deserve the title of strongest. Even our gatekeeper could defeat you."

Dark energy surged around his body as he prepared his ultimate attack.

"SEISHIN 88: NOCTIS SEPULCRUM!"

A gigantic ethereal chain formed above the battlefield, its energy twisting reality itself.

Vikram's eyes widened. "A demon… using holy magic? You must be joking."

Before the attack could land—

Time itself froze.

With a single slash, the chains shattered into dust.

A voice cut through the frozen air.

"Divya…?"

Vikram turned, eyes widening in shock.

Divya stood in the air, her magic disrupting the flow of time itself.

But before she could react—

A BOOM.

Reality fractured.

Orion smirked. "Did you really think such petty tricks could stop me?"

The battlefield distorted, swallowed in an abyss of pure darkness.

"That's enough play, Vikram. I'm out of time already. Now, let me show you... This is final!"

"Yami no Shikō" (Will of Darkness)

The moment the spell was activated, all light vanished from the battlefield.

Orion's eyes turned completely black, radiating an eerie glow of deep crimson. The air grew unbearably heavy, and a chilling void expanded outward from him.

"Let darkness consume all… Let fate tremble—Yami no Shikō."

Unlike a direct energy attack, Yami no Shikō was a reality-warping ability.

It did not destroy.

Instead, it rewrote the very existence of those caught in its grasp.

All living beings trapped inside the field lost their memories, identity, and even their place in history—as if they had never existed at all.

Orion smirked, his voice laced with cruel amusement.

"Your time is over, Destructor. And I almost feel sorry for you too, girl…"

Vikram stood chained, his power suppressed.

Divya, bloodied and exhausted, struggled to stand.

Above them, the sky turned a deep crimson red, and the battlefield was filled with the agonized screams of fallen warriors.

And then—something impossible happened.

The Death Reaper Chain began to crack.

The very fabric of reality twisted and bent as a massive black sigil appeared in the sky.

A suffocating silence fell over the battlefield—no sound, no wind—just the overwhelming presence of something terrifying.

Orion's confident smirk faltered as he witnessed the chains binding Vikram shatter—as if they had never been real to begin with.

A flicker of fear crossed his face.

"HOW CAN SOMEONE EXIST WITHOUT MY PERMISSION?!" Orion roared.

Then, a voice—calm, absolute, undeniable.

"I EXIST BECAUSE I CHOOSE TO EXIST."

The words rippled through the battlefield, resonating like a fundamental truth of the universe itself.

Shadows twisted together, coalescing into a tall, cloaked figure standing between Vikram and Orion.

"It's Adarsh!" Divya gasped, eyes widening in recognition.

Without a word, Adarsh slowly raised his hand.

In an instant, all the darkness was devoured.

The Death Reaper Chain dissolved into nothingness, as if it had never existed in the first place.

Orion gasped.

For the first time, he felt something he had never known before—his very existence felt unstable.

Adarsh, however, did not even spare him a glance.

He simply stood there—an unshakable force in the midst of chaos.

And then—

A massive portal ripped open in the sky.

The aura that spilled out was chilling, overwhelming—a force beyond comprehension.

A Demon Lord had arrived.

Draven Bloodstone stepped through, his abyssal energy shaking the very fabric of reality itself.

A deep, rumbling chuckle escaped his lips.

"Adarsh… it's been a long time."

Adarsh slowly lowered his hand, the fading remnants of darkness vanishing around him.

His gaze, finally, met Draven's.

His expression remained unreadable.

"Draven… You should have stayed in your abyss."

Draven smirked. "Perhaps. But you appearing in this war? That changes everything."

A tension unlike anything before filled the battlefield.

The air itself cracked under the sheer pressure of these two monstrous forces facing each other.

Would there be a fight?

But instead of battle…

A Pact.

Draven raised a single clawed hand, tracing a binding sigil in the air.

His crimson eyes locked onto Adarsh's.

"I have no interest in wasting my forces against you today. Let's make a deal."

Adarsh narrowed his eyes.

"Speak."

Draven's smirk deepened.

"Let's retreat for today. We will continue this later."

With those final words, Draven turned and disappeared into the abyss.