Location: The Edge of Realms - The Hollow Beyond
The sky above was split open, bleeding colors that had no name, filled with churning stars and collapsing light. Reality cracked like glass beneath the weight of two titanic presences facing off.
Ashborn Lionheart stood in the center of the abyss, a silhouette of divine wrath and infernal majesty. His long silver-white hair shimmered with interwoven strands of lavender and pink, whipping in every direction as raw magic surged around him. His Star-Halo shimmered above his head, casting radiant rings across the shattered space. Twin curved horns, celestial and prismatic, curled from his skull like a crown. His pupils burned with radiant multicolored irises with star-shaped pupils in radiant shades of magenta, purple, and yellow.
His black armored suit pulsed with prismatic energy, a sleek manifestation of divine-tech synergy.
And before him loomed the Cosmic Eldritch Entity, a colossal abomination stitched from nightmare and ancient hunger. It pulsed with non-Euclidean geometry, eyes without numbers blinking from impossible places, tentacles woven from the threads of forgotten timelines writhing like serpents starving for multiversal flesh.
The clash was inevitable
In his hands, he held nothing but raw energy, ready to be shaped into devastation.
Ashborn's expression was calm. Focused. Prepared to erase the abomination before him or die trying.
Then, a rift opened in the fabric of space beside him, chaos itself spilling into the battlefield like laughter echoing through a collapsing cathedral, like a blossoming flower of chaos and light, Seraphine emerged, wreathed in ghostly flames and swirls of eldritch stardust, her appearance even more unhinged than before. Her magenta-pink eyes glowed intensely, locked solely on him she floated just above the ground, clutching Excalibur and Exodus to her chest like sacred relics.
"Ashborn..." she whispered, voice quivering with obsessive devotion.
Her gaze devoured every inch of him, his aura, his power, his unwavering presence. Her cheeks flushed pink, lips parting with a trembling sigh.
"My beloved god... you stand alone against such filth. Unforgivable." Her voice cracked slightly, equal parts devotion and rage "How dare this... this thing threaten your radiance."
Ashborn didn't look at her first, his star-shaped eyes locked on the creature before him.
"Seraphine," he said flatly his tone battle-hardened. "What are you doing here?"
She shivered. The way he said her name, was like being baptized in divine fire.
"I came to serve," she purred, landing in front of him. "To kneel at your feet and offer you your rightful blades."
She dropped to one knee before him, a chaotic angel kneeling before her sovereign. With trembling hands, she held up the twin blades like offerings to a god she'd worshipped in silence. One in each hand, Excalibur. Radiating holy brilliance, Exodus, thrumming with unholy ecstasy.
"I brought you your justice and your wrath, Ashborn. Take them. Let me watch you burn the stars for me."
Ashborn finally turned his eyes toward her. "This isn't a game, Seraphine."
Her expression twitched, her smile widening unnaturally.
"Oh, I know but watching you kill a god is better than any dream I've ever had..."
The entity roared, its limbs writhing forward in mind-breaking geometry, but Seraphine didn't flinch. She just turned her head toward it slowly, her grin widening, her voice suddenly acidic.
"You dare interrupt our moment, vermin?"
Ashborn took the swords from her hands. As his fingers touched the hilts, a thunderous wave of power exploded outward, his aura doubling, then tripling, Divine golden light intertwined with abyssal shadows, and the void itself began to tremble under the pressure.
Seraphine's pupils became hearts for a split second.
Ashborn stepped forward, blades in hand.
"Stay back, Seraphine."
She backed away slowly, eyes wide with euphoric awe, her hands clutching her chest as though she'd just touched divinity itself.
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The eldritch being let out a deafening roar that shook the fabric of reality itself. Planets twisted, stars blinked out, and time stuttered.
It surged forward, a hurricane of writhing tendrils, each forged from cosmic anti-magic, anti-light, void corruption, and the unraveling threads of reality itself. The air around it cracked with eldritch force, the very concept of existence rebelling as it sought to rip Ashborn's essence from the cosmos.
But Ashborn was already moving.
He dashed forward, an ethereal shockwave bursting beneath his feet. Each movement was a blur of speed that shredded space. His twin blades, Excalibur blazing with celestial, brilliance, and Exodus, pulsing with abyssal hatred, flared as one.
Tendrils lunged.
Steel answered.
With a fluid, terrifying grace Ashborn started slashing the eldritch abomination from all sides, twisting, mid-air flipping over Tendrils, his arm a blur of precision, Excalibur carved arcs of radiant force while Exodus hissed with sharp void-edge destruction. His strikes flowed like a war dance, one foot pivoting while the other slid across the ruptured stone, his body weaving between lashes of chaos,
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From the sidelines, Seraphine watched, eyes wide, heart pounding, mouth parted in breathless ecstasy.
Her nails dug into her cheeks as she trembled, watching the man she loved bring doom upon an entity beyond gods.
"Oh yes... yes, my beautiful monster,"
She whispered, breath hitching. "Rip it apart...
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Amidst the relentless offensive, a tendril, slick with void matter and lined with jagged bone, sneaked silently behind him. In a flash, it coiled around his leg.
CRACK!!
Ashborn's body slammed into the ground like a meteor, sending shockwaves that folded nearby mountains into themselves. The ground cratered beneath him, molten light bleeding out from the core of the earth. Before he could regain his stance,
BAM!
SLAM!!
SLAM!!!
The entity dragged him like a ragdoll and smashed him down again. The impact rippled through the planet's tectonic plates, making the whole world tremble. Glassy chasms split apart continents. Skies cracked like shattered mirrors.
On the final slam, the creature hurled him upward like discarded prey, a blur of white, violet, and black streaking through the atmosphere, past storms and auroras, until ashborn crashed into the moon with devastating force. A flash lit up the void, followed by a deep rumble of silence.
For a heartbeat, all was still.
Then, from the dying earth below, the abomination launched itself. Its body bent like a spring of cosmic horror, and with a distortion ripple, it shot skyward. Each twist of its body cut through space itself. It left behind trails of entropy and melting stars. Its trajectory shattered small satellites and punched through the asteroid belt like paper.
Ashborn rolled across the lunar surface, coughing, white hair now dusted in moon ash, his body battered but eyes blazing with fury. He got up, rotating his shoulders with a sharp pop, his breathing controlled.
"So... you can hit hard. Good."
The monster landed with a sonic detonation, its feet sinking deep into the moon's crust. Cracks sneaked across the surface, and chunks of the moon rose in zero-G from the force
Then the two blurred forward.
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The duel in Lunar Gravity began.
Ashborn ducked a hammering tendril by launching into a sideways flip, in mid-air, he twisted his hips and delivered a reverse slash with Exodus, slicing clean through the writhing limb. His landing was brief, he used the recoil to spring upward again, bringing Excalibur in a tight overhead arc.
CLANG!
The entity caught the blade, its massive claw enveloped in a swirling black armor.
It went for a headbutt, a spiraling lunge driven by wriggling bone ridges.
Ashborn caught it between both swords, metal grinding against bone, sparks, and neoplasm flashing in the lunar night.
Ashborn kicked off the creature's knee, flipping over its back. As he rotated mid-air, he landed a precise upward slash across its back, slashing down again as he passed over its shoulder.
The abomination spun with unnatural speed, lashing out five tendrils in a wide arc. Ashborn backflipped, his boots skidding across a floating moon chunk. He kicked it off with sharp propulsion and torpedoed through the tendrils, slicing each one with a flurry of tight wrist cuts and short-rage pirouette slashes.
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They clashed again
Fist against blades.
Bone against sinew
Eldritch flailing madness versus fluid, brutal technique.
Ashborn spun low, planting a hand and sweeping and sweeping with a reverse roundhouse. The creature hopped, missing the sweep, but Ashborn used the moment to launch himself upward, twisting in a full vertical spin and bringing both swords down in an X-shaped slash across the creature's chest.
The monster reeled. It tried to retreat.
Ashborn didn't let up.
He sprinted across moon debris, dodging gravity-warped spikes that jutted from the creature's back. He slid under a collapsing stone, rebounded off a floating boulder, and launched himself with a twisting leap.
"STAY DOWN!!"
His blades crossed again mid-air. This time, the slash wasn't for damage, it was to open the monster's defense. He landed behind it in a crouch, spun his knee, and drove Exodus straight through its spine, pinning it to the fractured moon core.
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The moon shattered, behind them. The void trembled as the eldritch abomination twisted and contorted, a dreadful sound echoing through the folds of reality like the universe itself screaming.
Its form shifted, flesh unraveling like a rotted scripture, new limbs birthing from impossible geometries. A deeper form emerged, not its true shape, but a more refined terror, cloaked in shifting darkness and crowned with fractal eyes. Its new body was a cathedral of nightmares, its back lined with pulsating anti-stars and tendrils that moved like ancient equations. Its roar now distorted the laws of time.
Ashborn narrowed his eyes, his blades humming with unrest. Then,
Suddenly, his body pulsed with radiant agony. Bones cracked not from damage, but from evolution. His star-shaped eyes burned white, violet, gold, and cosmic hues.
A sacred draconic glyph ignited in his chest.
And from his back, four pairs of wings tore into being with celestial glory
- The first pair, of angelic wings, pure white, radiated divine brilliance. Feathers shimmered with soft, healing light, fluttering like a breath of creation.
- The second pair, demonic wings, jagged and infernal, blazed with crimson flame and black smoke, their feathers tipped in brimstone and wrath.
- The third pair, Dragon wings, massive and snow-white, armored in ivory scales, edged in clawed talons with every beat shattering the void
- The fourth pair, cosmic wings, unfurled like galaxies, swirling with miniature stars and orbiting planets, moving in serene defiance of physics.
Ashborn aura became a storm of paradox, holy and dammed, draconic and stellar.
"Nephilim Dragon... Forbidden form:
Genesis Cataclysm Unleashed."
He vanished.
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Space twisted, then exploded.
Ashborn and the eldritch entity collided mid-rift, their blows ringing like a forge hammer on the anvil of creation. Each of their strikes fractured space itself, and every dodge bent the axis of time. They moved faster than any reality could track, only the aftermath remained in each shattered plane.
Tendrils lashed out, a thousand, ten thousand, all aimed at ashborn.
He spun mid-flight, wings folding inward and exploding outward, a flurry of force and flame. He rocketed between the lashes, sometimes slicing them with synchronized blade arcs, other times phasing through in a blur of light and scale. Tendrils brushed past him by a mere hairsbreadth, causing aftershocks that annihilated stars.
He pierced the veil of the cosmos, slipping into a swirling void of uncharted realms.
The eldritch entity followed, not through travel, but by reshaping where "Here" was. Its body ruptured dimensional seams. Every tendril that missed tore apart civilizations, leaving only echoes of what once existed.
Then it Unleashed Chaos, forming thousands of horror magic circles, massive rings of anti-light, reality-void destruction runes, and cosmic decay. They spun like weaponized halos and fired a storm of entropy:
Multiverse-level annihilation beams, infused with the death law and order itself.
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Ashborn floating amidst nothing and everything, spread all eight wings wide.
"Let's dance."
From his arms and body, countless radiant circles ignited, layering in rings of all elements, Oblivion glyphs, Soulmancy incantations, Draconic arts, holy fire, and Demonic wrath. They spun around him, orbiting like a massive stellar array.
As the eldritch attacks neared, Ashborn unleashed his barrage, a meteor shower of raw elemental might and forbidden sigil-encoded spells
BOOM!
The collision was apocalyptic. Nebulae shattered. Entire star clusters blinked out. Each clash between circles birthed new realms or collapsed old ones. Light and darkness tore each other to shreds in a kaleidoscope of end-time energy.
Amidst the radiant inferno, Ashborn soared like a comet, weaving between spellfire and entropy, his swords dancing with terrifying beauty. He dodges in perfect spirals, then dives forward, slamming his feet into a floating asteroid and launching forward.
He teleported mid-dash, reappearing behind the eldritch titan and slashing across its back, as it roared, he was already above it, spinning, blades drawn inward, and then slammed both swords downward like divine judgment.
The creature roared again, twisting in unnatural angles. Its limbs turned inside out to catch ashborn in a vice-like crush, but Ashborn twisted mid-grab, snapping both wings outward, causing a burst that bent the eldritch limb away.
Then he rammed Exodus straight through the creature's shoulder, burning it with demonic death. Excalibur followed, slashing down the chest in a line of searing holy light.
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The battle raged on, brutal, primal, divine, and cosmic, as the two beings clashed in a savage proximity, their blows blurred the very notion of time.
Ashborn blades, Exodus and Excalibur, moved with furious harmony. He spun, parried, lunged, and twisted through the void, every stroke tearing apart what lay in its wake. Meanwhile, the eldritch abomination fought like a living paradox, its tendrils moving independently with nightmarish grace, each laced in anti-cosmic and reality collapsed.
Their multiversal-level attacks didn't just echo, they sang. A symphony of Armageddon, echoing across all known and unknown realms.
Galaxies were reduced to dust in the backdraft of their swings. Planets detonated like glass under divine stomps. Their battlefield no longer had a center, they moved through dimensions like dancers slicing across infinite stages.
Ashborn's foot slammed into the eldritch beast's chest mid-spin, launching it through six overlapping planes. It crashed through a dimensional wall that bled blue fire. Before it could recover, Ashborn blurred forward in a corkscrewing arc, both blades crossing, a brutal scissor slash, and looped off a massive arm laced with abyssal glyphs.
But the eldritch horror laughed.
It didn't roar. It laughed. A discordant, soul-rattling distortion that shocks countless realities, its severe arm birthing a dozen new ones in its place. Each limb spiraled with newer horrors: eyes that screamed, tongue that chanted antimatter psalms, void-hungry maws,
It shot forward, tendrils snaking around space itself. One tendril pierced a collapsed nebula and whipped around Ashborn's ankle. Another darted toward his throat, three towards his wings.
He twisted.
Ashborn somersaulted backward mid-air, dragging the tendril with him, then yanked it forward with bone-breaking strength, flipping the beast straight into a pocket dimension, and chased it in.
[ Inside the pocket dimension: ]
A world of silence. Time frozen. Matter still.
Ashborn wings folded tightly. His lips parted. And he inhaled,
Deeply, primally. Eternally.
From the pits of his soul to the end of his elemental bloodline, Ashborn summoned the breath of his Nephilim Dragon heritage.
Light and shadow flooded into his chest. Fire, frost, lighting, void, plasma, stone, soul, blood, storm, Starfire, and all elements fused into a single, radiant nuclear collapse of energy.
His Star-shaped Eyes glowed brighter than a dying sun.
Then--
He exhaled.
"Draconic breath of all elements: Genesis Erasure!"
A cataclysmic beam roared from his mouth, wide as a universe, faster than a concept. It tore through the pocket dimension, obliterating everything in its path. The eldritch abomination let out a screech that reverses language itself, as the breath hit it point-blank, searing across its body with limitless wrath.
It ripped through the eldritch god.
Its body convulsed, its limbs twisting into new, impossible shapes to survive, but even so, flesh turned to ash, and bone to nothing, its screams caused dead gods to wake and weep in nearby forgotten dimensions.
Ashborn's breath continued for eight full seconds, an eternity in divine combat.
When it ended, the abomination was still there. Burned, mangled, and contorted, its torso was half-melted. Limbs gone. Wings shredded. But its core still pulsed with a deeper madness. It stared back, mouth splitting sideways in defiance.
Ashborn floated, breathing heavily, smoke pouring from his lips, arms limp at his sides his hair whipped with Starfire wind. Purple blood ran down his arms.
Then the eldritch abomination roared, the sound undoing a realm three realities over. It bent backward unnaturally, its form trembling.
And then it changed, now glowing with darkened entropy, its semi-final form unraveling even more.
Ashborn met its rush swords gleaming.
They collided again, brutal. Close. Intimate
Ashborn ducked under a sweeping claw, spinning on one heel and driving his elbow into the creature's cracked ribcage. The impact caused an echoing blast that rippled and collapsed two timelines nearby.
The abomination swung a jagged arm, trying to bisect him, Ashborn blocked with Exodus, his left hand lashing out with a palm strike that cracked the monster's skull. It retaliated by stabbing five tendrils through its left wing. Ashborn didn't flinch, he roared and headbutted the entity, skull to skull-cracking both.
Blood poured from his scalp, but he grinned wildly
They kept striking.
No grace. No restraint. Pure, divine brutality.
A ballet of monsters. A war of gods. A spiral of destruction unending.
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Ashborn body crashed through one, two, or seven galaxies before he finally skidded across the surface of a dead, forgotten planet, dragging molten craters in his wake. Blood trailed from his mouth, staining the air itself.
He coughed, rising on trembling legs. His once-pristine armor shimmered with fractures, glowing dimly scarred with the echo of something deeper than pain. He looked at the stars and saw it.
Now... focused. Weaponized. Devastating.
It's a true form: The primordial Reality Reaper.
It stood amid the carcass of a shattered dimension, towering above reality like a black sun in a humanoid shape. Its body of living obsidian pulsed with burning crimson runes, each glyph screaming in a forgotten tongue. The runes moved, alive, hungry, twisting as if branding existence itself.
Six spectral arms floated behind it, swaying like slow, deliberate clock hands. Each one held a weapon that defied classification:
- A sword forged from extinction, every swing erasing history.
- A scythe carved from failed timelines, curved and glimmering with regret.
- A spear made from collapse probabilities, vibrating across infinite outcomes.
- A dagger born from forgotten gods, its edge-slicing belief.
- A chain woven from paradoxes, coiled and slithering through realities.
- A staff made of silence muting all magic and will.
Its tattered cloak writhed, made of devoured realities, constantly shifting, weeping with screams of collapsed realms.
Ashborn stared, still breathing heavily. His wings beat once, slowly, regal, defiant.
"We'll shit, so this is your truth,"
Ashborn muttered, voice hoarse but proud.
The Reaper answered. Not with words, but a movement.
One swing of its extinction sword cleaved the sky in two, sending a shockwave that severed three timelines nearby. Ashborn vanished a breath before impact, reappearing just beneath the Reaper's ribs with a brutal uppercut.
Crack!
The obsidian skin held, but a faint ripple appeared as a sign. A challenge.
The Reaper retaliated instantly.
Its scythe swung low, a back-arc cleft across space. Ashborn leaped backward mid-air, wings spread wide. But the dagger of forgotten gods blinked into existence behind him, stabbing toward his heart.
Ashborn twisted. The blade scraped across his ribs. He winced, but caught the chain of paradox mid-lash, pulling it, wrapping it around his forearm, and dragging The Reaper down toward him.
They collided mid-air, fists slamming into faces bones cracked. Stars died.
The fight devolved into a storm of raw, brutal physical combat.
Ashborn weaved between the six spectral arms, using momentum, footwork, and angle. He ducked a spear thrust, slid under a dimensional scythe, and vaulted over a swipe of extinction, only to get clipped in the back by the staff of silence.
His magic flickered. His aura dimmed for a moment, just enough for the dagger to stab his shoulder, pinning him to the space itself.
The Reaper loomed.
Ashborn growled, grabbed the dagger Hiltz, and ripped it out, blood flooding the void. He caught the scythe's next arc between his palms, grinding metal to a halt, and headbutted the reaper so hard, that space folded in on them.
The two were sent crashing through collapsed stars their bodies tumbling across galaxies.
Still, they fought.
Ashby kneed the reaper in the side, only to be punched through a black hole by the extinction sword. The force ruptured parts of his wings. His form flickered. He roared in pain, eyes glowing molten, and flew back, bare-handed now, ducking and grabbing the staff mid-swing, then shattering it across his knee.
The Reaper retaliated with all six arms now in harmony. A storm of concept-destroying blows rained down.
Ashborn blocked, and dodged, but was finally caught across the chest by the chain. It coiled, dragging him forward, and then the Reaper drove its spear straight into Ashborn's guts.
Ashborn screamed.
Blood poured from his mouth, cosmic, divine, defiant.
He gripped the spear, his fingers trembling, and then let out a roar so primal, so filled with purpose, it silenced dimensions.
"You think this is enough to stop me!?"
His aura exploded.
Even without his swords, ashborn clenched his fists. The elements, all of them, circled his arms. He slammed both palms into The Reaper's chest and unleashed a multiversal shockwave punch, launching the creature into the farthest layers of the void.
Ashborn dropped to one knee, panting. Blood coated his armor, dripping into space.
But he was not done.
Neither was the Reaper
It emerged again, arms glowing brighter. Laughing, a sound like entropy made audible.
This battle wasn't just brutal now.
It was personal.
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Ashborn blood seeped into the ruined soil of the shattered world. His breath was ragged. His body ached in a thousand ways no healing could mend. Above, the heavens wept, a rain of black stormwater and flickering stardust fell from dark clouds that coiled like mourning gods.
He stretched out his hand.
No response.
Again, he tried to call Excalibur and Exodus, his divine blades, his legacy, his strength.
Nothing.
The void around him buckled. The Reaper had warped reality itself, bent space, time, fate, and matter into a cage of hopelessness, there was no summoning. No retrieval. No cheat.
Only ashborn, his fist, his will, and the Primordial Reality Reaper that sought his annihilation
Ashborn rose, shoulders squaring.
He didn't tremble his four pairs of wings flared behind him, burned and torn, but still defiant:
- The Angelic wings, pure and brilliant even amid ash.
- The Demonic wings flared like living magma.
- The draconic wings, scaled and heaving with raw power.
- The Cosmic wings, bleeding starlight into the storm
Ashborn raised his fists into a stance, fluid, ancient, perfected. 'Nephilim draconic martial arts: a style that married godlike technique with draconic brutality.
Ashborn's gaze locked with the Reaper.
"Come," he said coldly. "Let's finish what you started."
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The Reaper moved first.
It flashed through space, with no sound, no wind, just displacement.
Ashborn sidestepped, barely, as the scythe of failed timelines nicked his ribs, sending flashes of lives that would never be. He rotated mid-air and hammered an elbow into the Reaper's face, sending cracks across its obsidian jaw.
The Reaper twisted.
Its dagger slashed upward, Ashborn caught the wrist and snapped it, twisting around with a rising knee to the guts.
The Reaper didn't flinch, its broken arm was phased into a weapon of paradox and swung down.
Ashborn blocked with his forearm, flesh tearing, but retaliated instantly, a draconic roar behind his punch, slamming the Reaper so hard it crashed through three tectonic layers of the planet.
He followed.
Like a comet, Ashborn rocketed downward and struck with a barrage: palm, elbow, hook, knee, axe kick, each hit folded space-time,
But the Reaper adapted.
With six arms spinning, it weaved its anti-dimensional weapons like a web of annihilation.
Ashborn dodged through the blades with grace but took a slash across his chest. Blood flew. He staggered
The Reaper's chain wrapped around his leg, yanking him forward.
Ashborn countered with a mid-air flip, planting both feet in the Reaper's chest and launching it backward. Before it could recover, Ashborn used the momentum to drop-kick it through a mountain, then descended in a blazing punch that shattered the entire mountain range.
They clashed again.
Fist to blade. Flesh to entropy.
Ashborn broke an arm. The Reaper sliced open his thigh.
Ashborn headbutted it into the sky. The Reaper teleported and knee-drove him back into the planet's core.
They tore the crust apart, fought in the magma, and exploded back into the atmosphere.
Ashborn was slowing. No magic. No swords. Just pain and sheer defiance.
The Reaper's weapons circled it, glowing, forming a sphere of ending.
Ashborn wiped the blood from his mouth and charged anyway.
They collided in the sky, a flurry of blows, both using every inch of their forms.
Ashborn slammed s spinning backfist, denting the Reaper's jaw. The Reaper retaliated with a six-armed combo, piercing Ashborn's shoulder, cracking his ribs, and smashing him into the dirt.
Ashborn spat blood and stood up
His eyes were dim but alive.
The Reaper stalked forward, spectral arms raised for the final blow.
Ashborn spread his wings. Took a deep breath. And stood tall.
"I won't die here," he whispered. "Even if my soul breaks, I'll shatter you with it."
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Ashborn staggered, lungs burning. The storm howled around him, and the ground beneath his feet no longer felt real, twisting, phasing, melting between dimensions. He raised his head. Blood dripped down his chin. One wing hung shattered, the cosmic one now sparking with unstable galaxies unraveling.
The Primordial Reality Reaper advanced, spectral arms spinning like celestial guillotines. Its runes now pulsed in rhythmic cadences, like a death song being sung across existence.
Ashborn... laughed.
It started low, rasping. Then a chuckle. Then a maniacal roar of a dragon driven to the brink
His star-shaped eyes widened, pupils dilating into a starless void.
"IF I CAN'T WIN WITH FIST--" he lifted his hand toward the broken heaven above, where fragments of dead multiverses drifted like shattered glass across the bleeding sky. "--THEN I'LL BECOME THE COSMOS ITSELF TO WIN!"
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The heavens cracked.
Ashborn's chest burst open with light. He pulled the shards of ruined multiverses toward him, their debris spiraling in, a collapsing starstrom of creation and extinction. Planets fused into his limbs, galaxies into his spine, and lost timelines surged into his veins like molten iron.
His body distorted, growing jagged with reality-razored armor, his skin glowing with fractured constellations scars, his heart beating like a dying star. His eyes became void cores, endless and unblinking.
A jagged blade of forgotten laws and fractured light formed in one hand, a sword born from the death of infinity itself. In the other, a gauntlet forged from the bones of collapsed timelines.
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Ashborn stood, a cosmic berserker, trembling with raw power.
His smile split his face.
A tear fell.
Then laughter again, mad, broken, and beautiful,
"I feel everything. I am everything. I am unmade and remade!"
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The Reaper hesitated.
And Ashborn charged.
Ashborn lunged blades first, leaving the Reaper's cloak of realities in half. His foot spun, a heel laced with comet force crushing into the Reaper's ribs. The Reaper swung its paradox scythe, Ashborn ducked, slamming his gauntlet upward, shattering a spectral arm.
The Reaper retaliated, its six arms spiraling like a hurricane of impossible geometry. Ashborn met them head-on, fist and blade dancing like a mad celestial brawler. One tendril pierced through his stomach, he grinned and ripped it out, then used it to strangle the Reaper mid-air before tossing it into a collapsing sun.
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Ashborn followed.
They brawled inside the sun's heart, ash, and plasma painting the battlefield. Ashborn bit into the Reaper's neck like a dragon made rabid by divine fury, tearing with his teeth, the Reaper stabbed him through the lung. Ashborn laughed, twisted around, and snapped the blade off inside himself, then headbutted the Reaper with enough force to rip apart space-time itself.
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Reality shattered.
They tumbled through void holes, across dead multiverses, and time-forgotten tombs, echoing the end of failed creations. Every place became a weapon for Ashborn
He grabbed the frozen corpse of a universe and used it to club the reaper.
He ripped out the planet's crust and drove it like a spear through the Reaper's torso.
He absorbed the core of a dying timeline into his chest, his skin now glowing like a fractured gold metal.
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But something was happening.
Ashborn's laugh grew harsher. His voice echoed with distortion, like too many thoughts bleeding through the mortal tongue.
His form jittered, wings flaring erratically,
Eyes twitching.
"TO MUCH!"
He howled in triumph.
"TO MUCH POWER AND YET.... NOT ENOUGH!!!!"
The Reaper took advantage. It launched a strike from all six arms, Ashborn dodged five, but the sixth, a blade of final silenced, cut through his wing and shoulder, splattering cosmos-colored blood across collapsing moons.
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Ashborn crashed, twitching coughing stars.
The Reaper landed before him, damaged, but focused, a silent titan of inevitability.
And ashborn... rose again.
His form crackled. His mouth dripped blood and laughter.
"Let's see," he said, breath ragged "If I can use... the death of everything... as my next attacks."
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Ashborn stood. Barely.
One wing left, his cosmic wing, flickering, broken at the edges, trailing stardust and blood. His armor, a cracked mosaic of multiversal shards, peeled away in glowing strips with every ragged breath. His mind? Fragmenting. Laughter now came with screams, words slurring into alien tongues, and forgotten dialects of gods.
But he stood.
Facing the Reaper, who now limped forward, cloak in tatters, eyes dimmer, weapons flickering with entropy. It bled concepts, ideas ceasing to exist with every cut it sustained.
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Ashborn took a step.
The planet beneath collapsed from the pressure.
Another step.
The stars around them began to age and die instantly.
The Reaper raised its scythe, A scythe carved from failed timelines its last blade, the edge of the final silenced, humming with Nullity. Its six arms were reduced to three-two shattered, one twitching, hanging by a thread of thought.
"This is it huh...." Ashborn Wheezed, clutching his fractured ribs "No more sword. No more cheat codes, Just you. And me."
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The Reaper roared a soundless scream and attacked.
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Ashborn ducked the first sweep, his cosmic wing wrapping around his body like a shield as he barrel-rolled through a stream of anti-dimensional daggers.
He planted his foot in a shifting patch of reality, leaped, and twisted mid-air, launching a wild spinning knee into the Reaper's throat, a fracture exploded behind the blow collapsing the timeline they stood in.
The Reaper countered, slashing at Ashborn's leg, tendon snapped, and blood sprayed, but Ashborn kept swinging, fists glowing with stolen dying starlight.
They clashed again. And again. And again. A blizzard of punches, claws, broken teeth, and pure will.
Until finally...
Ashborn's body broke mid-fall. His right arm turned to glass, too overloaded with stolen realities. His bones cracked like thunder. Blood poured from his eyes.
And in that silence... Ashborn mad grin faded.
For a moment, he was just a man again.
Breathing.
Broken.
And yet.... alive.
---
---
He looked up at the Reaper, still standing, breathing heavily, face split by a jagged scar Ashborn left across its black-hole eye.
Then he whispered
"You're bound by function aren't you?"
The Reaper froze.
"You end things. That's your truth. But me?"
Ashborn raised his trembling left hand, still pulsing with multiversal fragments.
"I was never meant to exist. I'm a paradox.... a Nephilim Dragon born of light, ruin, and everything in between."
He slammed his hand into his chest, absorbing the last fragments of the broken laws of reality around him.
---
"Final gambit: The heart fracture Detonation."
A technique no being was ever meant to use. Ashborn turned himself into a self-core of fractured everything, built to destroy what cannot be destroyed.
The Reaper launched forward, sensing danger.
Too late
Ashborn caught its blade with his bare hand, letting it cleave the hallway into his shoulder before headbutting the Reaper with such force that space-time inverted around them, swallowing color, sound, and law.
Ashborn wrapped his arms around the Reaper's neck in a brutal, crushing grip.
"You reap but I defy."
Ashborn chest split open, and a second sun ignited from within, not of heat, but of broken possibilities and shattered truths.
"Die with me, fucker."
Ashborn roared while grinning like a wild beast
---
The world vanished.
The explosion wasn't loud. It wasn't light. It was unmaking. Unbeing.
A singularity of will.
A paradox collapse.
A dragon's final roar echoes across every version of creation.
A moment passed.
Then everything exploded in cataclysmic silence
---
---
---
---
---
Silence.
A drifting void.
Then...
A flicker.
A heartbeat.
Ashborn's body, shattered and half-formed, drifted in a still void, alone. Silent. One cosmic eye is still open.
He breathed. Once.
"Goodbye Mother, Seraphine, and everyone else.... it wasn't so bad after all"
Ashborn chuckle is broken.
Then darkness took him...
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