Armageddon returned without fanfare.
There was no explosion, no tearing of space, no roar to announce his arrival—because nothing remained that could meaningfully resist him. The Throne Hall of Black Light received the guardian beast the same way it received everything else now: with silent acknowledgment.
The colossal being knelt.
Not because he was forced.
Because he chose to.
His humanoid form towered beneath the vast dome of the Palace of Twelve Shadows—obsidian scales veined with molten gold, eyes like collapsed stars, wings folded in disciplined restraint. Armageddon's presence alone bent the dominions subtly, not in defiance, but in resonance.
"It is done," Armageddon said, voice layered—dragon, phoenix, qilin, kun—four harmonized wills speaking as one.
"All outer god realms within reach have been claimed. Their hierarchies shattered. Their laws overwritten. Those who submitted live. Those who resisted no longer exist."
Ashura sat upon the throne.
Not leaning back.
Not slouched.
Straight-backed. Still.
As though the throne had been carved for him alone since before time learned how to flow.
"Good," Ashura said simply.
That single word carried finality.
Armageddon inclined his head further. "The balance holds. No realm under your banner bleeds without cause."
Ashura's gaze shifted—not to Armageddon, but beyond him, past the Palace, past the dominions, past even the layered realities bound to his existence.
"To Draguel," Ashura said. "Tell him to breathe. Create. Hide if he must. Eclipse won't touch him again."
Armageddon paused, then nodded. "And Eclipse?"
Ashura stood.
The Throne Hall responded instantly. The black light dimmed, then sharpened, as though reality itself was focusing.
"I'll go to him," Ashura said.
The Null Eclipse -
The Null Eclipse did not welcome visitors.
It filtered them.
It erased anything that did not align with its central thesis: convergence through domination, unity through enforced origin. Laws here were not passive—they were aggressive, invasive, constantly rewriting what entered to suit Eclipse's vision.
Ashura stepped in anyway.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the Null Eclipse reacted.
Layers of inverted causality collapsed inward, attempting to compress him into a singularity of obedience. Conceptual frameworks lashed out—time inversion, identity erasure, origin overwrite.
They failed.
Not because Ashura resisted.
Because none of them applied.
Black light bled softly from his form, not consuming the realm, not destroying it—correcting it. Everywhere he walked, the Null Eclipse stabilized into something less hostile, less forced.
As though it remembered what it used to be before Eclipse reshaped it.
Eclipse stood waiting at the center.
No armies.
No Primals.
Just him.
"You came alone," Eclipse said, voice smooth, measured, carefully calm. "That speaks of arrogance. Or confidence."
Ashura stopped a short distance away.
Hands behind his back.
"Neither," Ashura replied. "Efficiency."
Eclipse studied him openly now. Not as an abstract presence—but as a being. His eyes traced the black halo behind Ashura, the subtle distortion of space around him, the way the Null Eclipse bent away instead of inward.
"You've slaughtered the Outer Gods," Eclipse said. "You've crowned yourself Sovereign of Death and Rebirth. You rule balance like a tyrant who calls himself a steward."
Ashura tilted his head slightly. "You don't believe that."
Eclipse smiled faintly. "No. I believe you think you're right."
He spread his hands, the Null Eclipse flaring behind him into impossible geometries.
"Tell me, Eternal One—how many futures have you erased to preserve your precious balance? How many civilizations died quietly because their extinction was… convenient?"
Ashura's gaze did not waver.
"You mistake inevitability for cruelty," he said. "And choice for righteousness."
Eclipse's voice sharpened. "And you mistake authority for morality."
Silence stretched.
Then Ashura spoke again—quietly.
"You enslaved the Primals."
The words fell like a blade laid gently on a table.
Eclipse's smile thinned.
"You broke their neutrality," Ashura continued. "You didn't ask for alignment. You forced it. Not to preserve creation—but to crown yourself Creator."
Eclipse laughed.
A clean, sharp sound.
"Of course," he said. "Is that not what you did? You replaced the Nameless One. You inherited his throne. You govern death itself."
Ashura stepped closer.
Each step made the Null Eclipse shudder.
"The difference," Ashura said, "is that I did not erase what came before me."
Eclipse's eyes flickered.
"You consumed Primals," Ashura went on. "Stripped them of will. Used their infinite creation to build a ladder you could climb alone."
He stopped an arm's length away now.
"I rule because existence asked me to."
The black light intensified.
"You rule because you want to be worshipped by the concept of origin."
Eclipse's composure cracked.
"Don't pretend you're above desire!" he snapped. "You love them kneeling. You love the balance because it makes you indispensable!"
Ashura's voice dropped.
"So why did you feel threatened when I looked at you?"
The Null Eclipse trembled violently.
Eclipse's jaw clenched.
"…Because you are stagnation," Eclipse hissed. "You freeze creation in equilibrium. You deny ambition. I would make existence choose again."
Ashura's eyes hardened.
"You would make it obey."
Eclipse straightened.
"Yes," he said. "And I will not stop."
The Null Eclipse ignited.
Entire layers of reality peeled back as Eclipse's full presence unfolded—an ocean of converging origins, countless universes folded into his silhouette. Bound Primals screamed silently within his structure, their power fueling his ascension.
"Then we are done talking," Eclipse said.
Ashura's hand moved.
Not fast.
Not dramatic.
He reached out—and Kuroha answered.
The blade of black light manifested soundlessly in his grasp, its edge warping the Null Eclipse around it. The realm recoiled instinctively.
Ashura raised the sword—not in a stance, not in challenge.
Just… ready.
"You were right about one thing," Ashura said calmly.
Eclipse gathered everything—origin, convergence, dominance—into a singular, catastrophic point.
"What's that?" Eclipse snarled.
Ashura met his gaze.
"I'm not here to judge you."
Black light flooded the Null Eclipse.
"I'm here to end you."
The realms screamed.
And the final confrontation began.