Xarionthesupreme

Crimson Nexus: Lord of the Shattered Realms

Rael Vortigar was once a name whispered in fear across a thousand worlds—an immortal tyrant forged from forbidden magic, cursed tech, and raw vengeance. Betrayed by the gods he served and exiled beyond time, he should’ve been erased forever.

He wasn’t.

Now he’s back.

Armed with a living throne built from shattered realities and a hunger for cosmic retribution, Rael tears through dimensions to reclaim what was stolen: his throne, his power, and his vengeance.

At his side stands Lyra Kaine—a beautiful, brilliant sorceress-assassin with a blade that cuts between realities and a mouth sharper than her dagger. Together, they’ll battle corrupted AI prophets, mad time priests, rebel technomancers, and entire pantheons.

But Rael isn’t just fighting the multiverse—he’s warping it.

And with every victory, he grows stronger... darker... closer to something the cosmos cannot contain.

Because this isn’t a story of redemption.

It’s the origin of a final boss.

Crimson Nexus: Lord of the Shattered Realms

> "Rebuilding a world means destroying its clock."

Location: Sector Nullis – A Forgotten Reality Loop

It was a loop—a reality stuck in its last second of existence, forever rewinding itself before it could die.

Time broke around him—exploding buildings reversing, screams looping, light twitching like a glitch in a dying game.

Lyra stood beside him, sweating. Her heartbeat was the only thing that felt linear.

> "Because," Rael said, eyes scanning the temporal static, "this is where the Eidolon Protocol activates."

Three beings stepped through fractured time—Architects stripped of their titles, forms weathered by chaos:

Kael-Or, the Shardsmith—his body a lattice of broken blue code.

Vessaria, the Last Heart—once the Composer of Souls, now cursed with empathy.

Drith-Ka, a rogue time-priest, her face a spiral of ticking gears.

> "You want to remake the world," Kael-Or said. "We'll help."

> "Why?" Rael asked, narrowing his eyes.

> "Because the Architects lost the thread," Vessaria whispered. "And you… are the thread."

> "To fix the world, you must destroy the Clockmother."

> "The being who births time in every reality."

As Rael debated, Lyra's vision blurred.

She saw herself as a child—not in a lab, not in war, but floating in a crystal prism surrounded by chanting Architects.

> "No," Vessaria said gently. "You're an Eidolon. A seed of choice planted in deterministic soil."

> "The only variable he didn't predict.

The one choice he didn't make… but still followed."

She began floating—eyes glowing blue, arms wrapped in runes made of raw narrative energy.

The Rebels opened a map—not of land, but time structures.

Each world had a Clock—some mechanical, some living, some artificial.

But above all was the Clockmother, nesting in the center of Chronoforge, a black-hole-fortress where time was born.

> "You destroy her," Kael-Or said, "you break the Architects' grip."

> "And what happens then?" Rael asked.

> "Then," Vessaria whispered, "you write the next epoch. With Lyra… or without her."

> "I'll follow you," she said, "even if it means erasing the moment we met."

> "Let's make sure we don't have to."

Before they could teleport, Drith-Ka stopped him.

She handed him a Shardkey—a weapon that could freeze a god's heartbeat in a single moment.

> "You'll need this when the Clockmother tries to undo you."

Rael took it. Turned to the glowing portal to Chronoforge.

Chapter 13: The Eidolon Protocol