The Titan of Kaedor

Cosmic Destiny

Chapter 5: The Titan of Kaedor

The Planet of Titans

Deep within the Obsidian Belt, where stars burned with a cold, blue fire, lay the world of Kaedor—a planet unlike any other. Unlike the lush greenery of Elaris or the molten battlefields of Veyndor, Kaedor was a land carved from mountains of unbreakable stone and skies choked with eternal storms.

Here, the ground itself was a fortress, vast continents of black rock stretching endlessly beneath a sky of constant thunder. Great monolithic spires rose from the surface like the remains of ancient gods, their peaks lost in the swirling clouds. Earthquakes were common, but the people of Kaedor did not fear them. They embraced them.

The Kaedorians were born from the stone, giants among mortals, their bodies as durable as the very world they walked upon. Their veins pulsed with an energy known only to their kind—Titan's Might, a force that made them stronger with each battle they survived.

Among these mighty warriors, one name stood above all others.

Garrak, the Stoneborn.

The Titan's Legacy

From birth, Garrak was different.

Kaedorians were naturally large, but he was a colossus even among them. Standing over ten feet tall, his body was a mountain of muscle, his skin hardened like polished stone. His fists could shatter boulders, and his very footsteps could send cracks through solid rock.

But his strength alone did not make him a legend.

It was the trials he had endured.

As a child, Garrak was thrown into the Storm Pits, where the young were forced to withstand the fury of Kaedor's most violent tempests. While others were battered and broken, he stood unshaken.

At fifteen, he climbed the Pillar of Ancients, a mountain so treacherous that none had reached its peak in centuries. When he returned, he carried with him the Titan's Mark, a symbol carved into his very skin—proof that he had conquered Kaedor's greatest challenge.

By twenty, he had no equal.

Kaedor had no kings, no rulers—only those who proved their dominance. And Garrak had proven himself time and time again, defeating every challenger, every beast, every force that dared to test him.

But like Drax of Veyndor, he felt no satisfaction.

Power was his birthright, but what was its purpose?

The Wrath of the Mountain

One fateful day, the ground beneath Kaedor shook violently, far stronger than any natural quake. The people, accustomed to such tremors, did not react at first.

But then—the sky cracked open.

From the heavens descended something unnatural.

A black meteor, wrapped in tendrils of shadow, plummeted toward the Titan's Core, the sacred heart of Kaedor. The impact sent shockwaves across the land, splitting mountains and swallowing entire cities into the depths.

From the crater, something crawled forth.

A creature unlike any that had ever walked Kaedor.

It was colossal, its body twisted and malformed, its limbs too long, its face a hollow void of endless darkness. Its presence corrupted the very ground, turning solid rock into brittle ash.

And then, it roared.

A sound so powerful, so unnatural, that the great Titan Spires trembled.

Garrak felt something he had never known before.

A chill.

Not of fear—but of recognition.

This creature was not of Kaedor. It was a sickness, something that had no right to exist.

And so, for the first time, Kaedor faced an enemy it did not understand.

The Battle of the Titan's Core

The warriors of Kaedor were fearless, their bodies unbreakable, their strength unmatched.

But against this creature—they fell like dust.

Garrak watched as hundreds of his kin charged, their war hammers raised high, their battle cries shaking the heavens. The beast barely moved, yet with each swing of its shadowed claws, entire legions were erased from existence.

It was not a battle.

It was a massacre.

Garrak clenched his fists, feeling the Titan's Might boil within him.

This was his world.

His people.

And he would not allow them to fall.

With a roar that shook the heavens, Garrak leaped from the highest cliff, descending upon the monster like a falling star.

His fists struck with the force of mountains colliding. The very land shattered beneath his blows.

But the creature did not fall.

Instead, it laughed.

A sound that did not belong in this world.

It spoke, its voice like shattered stone scraping against metal.

"Titan-born… you cannot stop what is coming."

Garrak's eyes burned with fury. "I do not stop. I break."

The battle raged for hours.

Each strike from the creature sent Garrak reeling, its corrupted energy eating away at his strength. But still, he fought.

Because that was all he had ever known.

The Arrival of Elyon

As the battle neared its breaking point, the sky shimmered with silver light.

Garrak, barely standing, looked up.

A figure descended, his robes flowing like the tides of the cosmos.

Elyon.

With a mere gesture, the heavens responded.

A beam of pure energy crashed down upon the beast, searing away its corrupted flesh. The creature screamed—a sound of true agony—before collapsing into dust.

Garrak breathed heavily, his fists still clenched, his body refusing to collapse despite the pain.

He turned to the stranger, eyes narrowed. "You are not Kaedorian."

Elyon smiled. "No. But I am here for you, Titan of Kaedor."

Garrak's gaze darkened. "Explain."

Elyon stepped forward, his expression calm yet filled with purpose. "You have seen it, haven't you? The visions. The war that is coming."

Garrak exhaled slowly.

He had seen something—a darkness unlike anything he had ever faced, consuming worlds, swallowing entire civilizations.

And in that vision, he had seen others. Warriors like him.

Elyon's voice was gentle, but firm.

"The universe calls for its strongest. You are one of them. The Titan of Kaedor. A warrior destined to fight in the greatest battle of all time."

Garrak remained silent for a moment.

Then, slowly, he smiled.

A battle unlike any other. A challenge worthy of his strength.

And so, without hesitation, Garrak, the Titan of Kaedor, took his first step toward destiny.