The Link Realm was not a place of earth and stone. It was a dying nexus of shattered geometries, where fractured timelines bleeding liquid silver overlapped like broken glass. Space here didn't breathe—it groaned beneath the sheer density of two absolute existences anchored at its center.
Behind Leornars, the **Black Moon** hung suspended in the abyss. It was an eclipse of pure void, a weeping orb of anti-matter that bled localized gravity, bending the surrounding light into jagged, violet rings. Blood streamed down Leornars' pale face, tracing the jagged contours of his jaw, dripping off his chin, and vaporizing into dark smoke before it could touch the non-existent floor. His platinum hair flew wild in the dimensional static, his single crimson eye burning with the raw, unadulterated fury of a dying star.
And across from him stood Adamas Verti Minum.
Adamas stood motionless amidst the churning vortex of space-time. He wore no armor forged by divine hands, no robes woven from starlight. He was draped in simple, primordial linen that swept gently in the cosmic draft. He didn't radiate the oppressive, crushing pressure of an Outer God, nor the arrogant majesty of a celestial king.
He radiated something infinitely worse: the quiet, terrifying composure of a father who had watched empires crumble, stars burn out, and galaxies die—and remained entirely convinced that every living thing in creation was still playing under his roof.
The First Human looked upon Leornars.
Slowly, his lips parted into a gentle, almost melancholic smile.
"Still defiant after all these years, son?"
Leornars' breathing hitched. The crimson eye narrowed, tracking the shift of light around Adamas' throat.
"...Son?"
Adamas opened his hands, spreading his arms wide. The gesture was disarmingly open, yet as he moved, the entire structural fabric of the Link Realm shuddered in resonance.
**"FOR I AM THE FATHER OF YOUR FATHERS."**
The declaration didn't just carry through the air; it violently vibrated through every adjacent layer of reality. Dimensions stacked miles above and below the Link Realm rippled like struck gongs.
"The first of mankind," Adamas continued, his voice dropping into a rich, ancient baritone that felt woven into the very concept of mortality. "The absolute origin from which your human descendants would eventually crawl out of the mud."
He raised a single, pale finger, pointing directly at the bloodied sovereign before him.
"I am older than their forgotten kingdoms. Older than the first words spoken in dark caves. Older than their histories, their myths, and their gods." Adamas' eyes crinkled with genuine warmth. "And now... I am simply here to end our little disagreement, son."
A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon the nexus.
Leornars stared back at the Progenitor for three long seconds. The terrifying, world-ending rage that usually suffocated his presence suddenly cooled into an eerie, deadpan stillness. His head tilted slightly.
"I'm a parasite," Leornars said, his voice flat, devoid of pitch, and sharper than a surgeon's scalpel.
He casually jabbed his thumb against his own scarred chest.
"I have no parent. I have no origin point."
A pause. The Black Moon behind him hummed a low, sub-audible frequency.
"I don't even possess a biological reason to exist within this reality."
Another beat.
"So whatever cosmic family tree you're drawing in your head..."
Leornars' arm blurred. The jagged, soul-stealing length of his black blade hissed from its sheath, stopping an inch from Adamas' visual line.
"...leave my name the hell off it."
Adamas threw his head back and laughed.
It was not the cold, mocking laughter of a villain, nor the booming arrogance of a tyrant. It was a rich, genuinely amused laugh—the sound of an elder delighted by the feistiness of a toddler wielding a wooden sword.
"Oh... stubborn child."
A vein pulsed violently on Leornars' temple. His grip on the sword hilt tightened until his knuckles turned ash-white.
"Don't call me that."
"You always were the most difficult one," Adamas mused softly, taking a single, measured step forward. "I existed before your entire species was even a thought in the cosmos' mind. And yet... here you stand, behaving like a rebellious youth refusing to come inside for dinner."
"I'm going to kill you," Leornars whispered.
"There it is." Adamas' smile widened, illuminating the dim void. "The temper. The eternal fire."
Leornars stared, his crimson eye flashing with absolute disgust. "You're enjoying this."
"Of course I am."
Adamas raised his right hand, palm facing the heavens.
*BOOM—!*
The entire atmospheric makeup of the Link Realm inverted. The ambient air turned into pressurized aura, heavy enough to crush a lesser god's lungs into dust. The shattered glass of floating timeline fragments froze in mid-air.
"Do you know how long it has been since someone spoke to me without their knees trembling?" Adamas' expression shifted, touched by a strange, ancient nostalgia. "Humanity prays to me in absolute terror."
His fingers slowly curled into a loose fist.
"The gods bow their heads in reluctant respect."
His golden gaze locked onto Leornars with terrifying focus.
"But you?" Adamas let out a soft, fond chuckle. "You simply refuse to listen."
"I don't obey things that call themselves my father without my permission," Leornars hissed, his core surging.
"Permission?" Adamas chuckled again, taking another step. The space beneath his foot didn't crack; it rearranged itself to serve as his walkway. "I am the First Human."
*Step.*
"I am the unbroken lineage."
*Step.*
"I am the Ancestor, the Blueprint, and the Father of All Mankind."
The primordial authority surrounding Adamas erupted—a blinding, golden column of ancestral light that tore through the upper dimensional boundaries, threatening to wash away the darkness.
"I do not require permission to be what I am!"
Behind Leornars, the **Black Moon** didn't just shine—it snapped open like a gargantuan, cosmic eye.
"Good," Leornars growled, his voice dropping an octave into something inhuman.
*CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!*
From the pupils of the Black Moon, massive, conceptual chains forged from dark matter and condensed anti-life shot forth, rattling with the screams of a billion dead timelines.
Leornars raised his left hand, his fingers twisting into an absolute seal.
**"[MORS AETERNA]!"**
The dark chains surged forward at hyper-dimensional speeds, tearing through the concept of distance itself.
Adamas didn't step back. He simply pushed his open palm into the oncoming storm.
**"[FATHER OF ALL MANKIND]!"**
### **Act II: The Collision Across Forever**
The two absolute authorities slammed into one another.
The Link Realm didn't just break—it *screamed*. A blinding shockwave of golden ancestral light and pitch-black anti-matter detonated at the point of impact, burning away concepts like 'up', 'down', 'time', and 'space'. The surrounding timelines shattered like dropped crystal, spilling raw history into the void.
Adamas looked straight through the swirling vortex of black chains and white-hot destruction, his golden eyes unblinking, his voice carrying over the roar of collapsing reality.
"Then I'll simply treat you like the rebellious creature you insist on being!"
Through the blinding flash of cosmic annihilation, Leornars' blood-soaked face appeared inches from Adamas'. His mouth tore open into a wide, manic, terrifying grin that split his skin.
"Try it, old man!"
Adamas laughed—a sound of pure, unadulterated exhilaration.
"There you are!"
*BOOM—!*
In an instant, both primordial beings vanished from the spatial plane.
They were no longer fighting on a single stage. They became a localized phenomenon, flickering across the Past, the Present, and the Future simultaneously.
*In Timeline 1,002:* A flash of golden light and black fire shattered a mountain range in an instant before disappearing.
*In Timeline 14,900,112:* The ocean split in two as two invisible forces clashed at five hundred times the speed of light, leaving a trench of boiling plasma in their wake.
*In the present Link Realm:* The air tore open every microsecond, displaying brief, brutal snapshots of their collision—Leornars driving his black blade toward Adamas' throat, Adamas catching the edge with two bare fingers and shattering the shockwave with an open-palm strike to Leornars' chest.
They were two ancient, unstoppable anomalies who utterly rejected each other's definitions.
Adamas fought with the absolute, unyielding weight of the First Father—every strike backed by the collective authority, potential, and history of the entire human race.
Leornars fought as an absolute denial—a walking, screaming pathogen that had never needed a father, never needed a throne, and never needed a universe to justify his existence.
Not as father and son.
Not as creator and creation.
Not as god and mortal.
They fought as two primordial monsters whose endless, violent rivalry had outlived the very concept of time—an eternal war woven so deeply into the fabric of creation that their hatred was older than the stars themselves.
From a collapsing pocket dimension seven seconds in the past, Adamas' booming voice echoed across the multiversal rift:
**"COME NOW, SON!"**
And from a localized strike point six minutes into the future, Leornars' voice tore through the timeline, answering before the question was even asked:
**"I TOLD YOU—!"**
The **Black Moon** behind him shattered its own boundaries, expanding until it blotted out the light of a thousand distant dimensions.
" I'm not your son, Adamas"