Prologue: The Death of a Creator
**Beyond the Omniverse, in the Eternal Cosmic Battlefield…**
A cry echoed through the fabric of existence itself.
Reality trembled as Azeris Drakon, the Infinity Dragon Progenitor, stood at the centre of creation's most devastating conflict. Stars dimmed and extinguished, entire omniverses collapsing under the weight of the clash before him. He was more than a mere entity; he was a force that shaped the cosmos, and his very presence stirred the winds of fate.
Opposing him were the mighty forces of existence—the Omniversal Sovereign Court, the Abyssal Void Order, and the Tribunal of Fate. These were the guardians of the multiverse, the so-called deities of creation and destruction. Each faction had its own motives, interwoven with an ancient rivalry that reverberated through aeons. They had witnessed countless beings rise and fall, yet they failed to grasp the indomitable spirit that coursed through Azeris.
And their intent was clear: they sought to erase him from the tapestry of reality, to extinguish his light forever.
Azeris stood resolute, a lone beacon of defiance amidst the chaos of towering titans. Even in the face of overwhelming odds, he refused to yield. Each heartbeat echoed with the pulse of the cosmos, a reminder of the existence he had nurtured. He bore the legacy of the Infinity Dragon Bloodline—a precious gift that allowed him to transcend limitations, creating and dismantling the very fabric of worlds. His breath could birth galaxies, and his roar held the power to shatter destinies.
Yet, he was fully aware that even a being of his calibre was not infallible.
"Azeris."
The voice reverberated through the void, heavy with authority—a command that sent ripples of unease through the cosmos.
Before him appeared Supreme Judge Nihil of the Tribunal of Fate, an imposing figure clad in elegant white robes trimmed with shimmering gold. His presence radiated an otherworldly majesty, but his expression was one of stoic detachment—a man who had judged and extinguished countless civilizations with an unwavering hand, whose gaze could turn the bravest heart to stone.
"Your power disrupts the balance," Nihil declared, his voice like a stone tablet announcing an unchangeable fate. Each word he uttered felt like the tolling of a cosmic bell, signalling the end of ages.
Azeris met his cold gaze with a discordant note of laughter that rippled through the battlefield, a defiant sound that shattered the oppressive silence. "Balance?" he replied, his golden eyes, each adorned with the symbol of infinity, igniting with life. "You mean your control. You fear what you cannot manage. You and your Tribunal have ruled with an iron fist, blind to the beauty and chaos of the worlds you pretend to safeguard."
Next to Nihil, a massive shadow coiled—a being of pure abyssal void energy, ominous yet sorrowful. The Abyssal Void Lord—a creature born from the darkness at the edges of reality—loomed larger than any star. His presence twisted the light around him, casting an unsettling aura of despair.
The Lord's voice resonated with a depth that echoed through the cosmos, ancient and drenched in sorrow. "Enough words. We must end this." A finality hung in the air, like the calm before the storm.
As if in mourning, twelve divine weapons materialized in the sky, crafted from the essence of dying worlds. Each weapon shimmered with the dying light of stars, carrying the weight of destruction—a reflection of the pain that had birthed them. They were forged from the memories of entire civilizations that had once thrived, now reduced to whispers in the cosmic winds.
They began their descent, glistening like the culminating tears of universes. The battlefield held its breath as the weapons rushed toward Azeris, each one a harbinger of end and obliteration.
With a heart full of fire and determination, Azeris roared, his form enveloped in black and gold flames that ignited the void around him. Twelve magnificent dragon wings spread wide from his back, crackling with cosmic energy, casting shadows that danced like stars across the battlefield.
BOOM!
The battlefield erupted in chaos that transcended understanding, a dance of destruction and defiance. Azeris fought fiercely, each movement a testament to his will to live and protect the essence of the worlds he had nurtured. He tore through the forces arrayed against him, his claws shredding the very fabric of his enemies' plans. Yet, even he struggled against the relentless tide of existence; the combined might of the Omniversal Sovereign Court pressed in from all sides, a tide of fate that sought to engulf him.
His body waned, each blow weakening his form, the very soul of the Infinity Dragon feeling the strain of being unwoven. Stars that once twinkled in the vastness dimmed with each heartbeat and the reality he cherished crumbled around him.
But even in his darkest moment—when all seemed lost and despair tempted him…
As the final blade pierced his heart, the world quieted, and time slowed.
A serene smile crossed his lips. The realization that he had experienced the breadth of creation, the majesty of life, filled him with an indescribable peace.
"Fools." His voice resonated softly, even as it echoed through the space and time that threatened to unravel. "You think this is the end? You are mistaken."
With the last reserve of his strength, he reached into the very heart of reality itself—the pulsing core that birthed all things, where creation and destruction merely danced in cyclical harmony.
The Infinity Dragon Realm.
A sacred haven, concealed beyond all judgment and beyond the comprehension of the Tribunal. It was a place where his essence could endure, untouched by the conflict of the multiverse. In its boundless expanse, realities folded into one another, a sanctuary for those who refused to fade into oblivion.
☀ [Final Command: Begin Rebirth.]
And in a fleeting moment—he was gone, his form dissipating like smoke against the winds of time. The rulers of existence, their triumphal shouts echoing in the void, believed they had emerged victorious.
But they had merely postponed