Darkseid and Furies stepped into the next chamber, opening up the massive metal doors at the end of the corridor that they had been exploring for the past hour or so.
Beyond was the throne room of Warworld, tucked away deep inside the Necropolis, hidden from most. A room accessible only to a select few, who enjoyed the total trust of Mongul. The list so short that even Mongal, his sister, had no access to it.
The throne room was made of a different stone than the rest of the Necropolis. It was a hollow and vast cavern of pale white marble and red-brown granite. Its walls were veined with ropes of golden crystals glowing faintly, illuminating the room in an atmospheric, warm light.
Massive columns rose from the ground to the ceiling, so tall that the ends of the columns were lost in shadows. The air here was dense and heavy, almost stuffed.
At the far end of the hall, upon a throne carved from a single slab of black stone sat the Warlord of Warworld, Mongul.
He rose from his seat with a big smile, welcoming his hostile guests. His regal presence filled the room. This was his seat of power that had remained unchallenged for millennia. For aeons his family had ruled this metal planet from this very throne, rarely gracing the Warzoon populace with their presence.
Mongul himself was colossal, nearly rivaling Darkseid in height. His skin was characteristically for a Warzoon yellow color. His armor clung to the body, purple and slick, made of the living metal, it perfectly fitted his titanous figure.
The gem embedded deep inside made itself known as the dim yellow light pulsed on Mongul's chest. The gem was pulsing with energy with every beat of his heart. At this point, it was part of his body, as natural as his arms and lungs. Long ago, he had entered symbiosis with it and had been living with it for most of his life.
Mongul's bald skull reflected the light of the veins inside the walls, illuminating the circlet of steel on his head like a spotlight.
He began slowly walking towards Darkseid and Furies. His enormous boots, cast from heavy metal, clunked against the stone floor. Each step sent a light tremor through the floor, as if the very planet was shaking in fear of its ruler.
The smile on his face was bereft of joy; it resembled a jackal's snarl, marking him as a predator about to pounce on his prey.
"Welcome…" Mongul began. "to my Apokoliptian guests. The great Darkseid flies through space to find me. I am flattered."
Darkseid did not answer. He would rather study the surroundings now before the opponent stops monologuing and wasting time. This room would become a battlefield soon. He surveyed each and every corner of it, its furnishing and geometry, the difference in elevation and lighting between parts of the room.
The gem inside Mongul's body was also interesting. He remembered Solstice talking about this gem. She said that it was powerful. And Darkseid's magic senses confirmed it, as he felt magic power emanating from the gem. It was unmistakably ancient, but artificial, forged long ago by someone powerful.
"This one is mine," Darkseid said with calm determination as he turned to the Furies.
Mongul's grin widened; his opponent was probably trembling in fear before his mighty presence.
"I see you have come to realize your error. I will let your underIings escape. I am a merciful ruler after all." Mongul gloated, laughing gleefully with no care for his opponents. Mongul began circling Darkseid, creating an imaginary fighting ring.
"I'm glad you see my power. I am far more powerful than you, false god. You, race of gods, are the remnants of old times, admit it." He laughed heartily once again; his chest contorted with each sound made.
The Furies shifted their weight uneasily; the power emanating from Mongul was overwhelming. It was far beyond them. Even standing behind Darkseid in their formation, they had felt the enemy's presence.
"You've come to take my world, haven't you? But you are too weak to do that! Warworld belongs to me by right and by power. Surrender now, and your people will be spared. It would bring them honor to serve as slaves for my Empire."
"Warworld," Darkseid had finally broken his silence, fed up with his opponent's monologue. "It has been a rusting piece of space junk for the entirety of your family's rule. Clearly, you are incapable of bringing justice to this weapon."
Mongul laughed out loud in response, the light of his gem brightening its eminence with each shake of his chest.
"Spare me your foolishness, New God," He spat on the floor with clear disgust on his face. "For I will be sending you to the graveyard of the gods soon, cretin."
He jabbed his thick finger forward, pointing at Darkseid.
"You've come to your death. Remember it by its name".
Mongul charged from his place at an impressive speed, leaving a rubble of stone at the place he was previously standing. Muscles on his body bulked up with a rush of power and adrenaline; he was channeling not only his peak Warzoon strength but also the power of the whole planet under his control. Warworld had been granting its might to every Mongul that had ruled it. They were its masters, and it was their weapon.
At the moment, despite being visibly unarmed, Mongul had wielded the whole planet as his weapon.
"MONGUL", the Warlord of the Warworld, roared out his ancestral name, the title of wielder of this planet's might, a battlecry full of raw force and hatred. Hatred of anything alien to this planet.
Darkseid's face remained impassive and emotionless. So far, Mongul had not impress him yet. He talked too much, bubbling away endlessly.
The emperor of Apokolips slapped back the opponent's charge with the back of his hand.
"You dream of conquest, yet you do not see that you have been conquered already. Bend the knee before the inevitable."
Mongul tilted his head quizzically.
"Inevitable?"
Darkseid stepped forward. The stone cracked beneath his boots before melting under the influence of his power. Lava rivers began forming in each crack.
He reached behind his back, grasping the polearm resting across his shoulders. Noctyrn, a guan dao bound to his soul. The black blade on its end drank the light of the room. Faint crimson veins pulsed along the length of the blade.
"The inevitable end of all things. Submission before me."
His words hit the throne room like thunder. The Furies instinctively tensed, even though their master's ire was not directed at them. They knew that Darkseid was the god of tyranny and domination, but so far, they had only been exposed to his "good" side. He was always generous to them.
But Mongul was their enemy. Whatever would happen to Mongul, whatever doom Darkseid would bring onto him, it didn't matter. Darkseid had shown them the path to a better future. They would follow their master's lead and die if necessary.
Hearing Darkseid's words, Mongul's smile dropped. Rage filled him. No one before dared to challenge him. And he will show why. God or not, Darkseid would fall to Mongul's hand.
The Warlord of Warworld charged Darkseid once again, this time prepared for the New God's counterattack.
Darkseid stood still. He did not assume a stance as he did not need to. The air itself began to vibrate around him.
The Warzoon's charge was like a cannonball of muscle and rage. Mindless and straight, with no curve and nothing interesting to it. Primitive.
Darkseid turned his head slightly, allowing the opponent to strike him. His neck muscles tightened as he braced for impact. The strike rippled through him, the air bending with the force.
But he shrugged it off like nothing. Then Darkseid struck back.
Noctyrn came alive in his hands, sweeping upward, a tail of flame followed the polearm's path.
Mongul managed to react in time, blocking the polearm with his forearm. He grinned through the pain of Darkseid's blow. Prematurely, as the real attack was yet to come.
An explosion of power rang through the air.
Noctyrn was not just a weapon. It was an extension of Darkseid's soul, a manifestation of his powers.
A roar overtook the room; a massive explosion had burst out from Noctyrn. But this fire was different. Purple in color, it seemingly drawn in the light around it, feeding on it.
Mongul, now lit with purple fire on his body, looked confused. It didn't hurt. He was not dumb; he understood that the fire did something. But what?
"What is this? Magic? Since when does the infamous Young Demon delves into magics?" Mongul wandered out, bewildered.
Darkseid disregarded his opponent's talk. He advanced with heavy, deliberate steps. The polearm was raised above his head, a stream of purple fire bursting from it, smokeless.
He swung Noctyrn towards Mogul. A wave of fire escaped his weapon, impacting the enemy. The strike was short and precise, but the power behind it was devastating.
Mongul took the wave of fire head-on. Another mistake. He was washed over with a sense of entropy; weakness spread out inside his body. His arms flung on his sides, as if he was stripped of his power.
The Warlord of Warworld managed to overcome the entropy with the sheer power of his will. He refused to bow down to the enemy with such ease. He was of royal blood. He wouldn't lose.
The two rulers met each other in a confrontation once again. Their strikes collided mid-air, sending waves of kinetic energy tearing through the hall, shredding the banners hanging from the ceiling.
One column fractured and crumbled under its weight, unsupported. Dust rained down from the ceiling. The throne room shook with an earthquake of power.
The Furies held their ground at the edge of the room, standing by the exit. They were bracing against the shockwaves of energy that were flying around. Aurelie was squinting, trying to see through the cloud of dust that had washed over the battle.
"By the Source, I've never seen anything like this," Barda shouted, covering her head behind the protection of her armored hands.
Tina stepped closer, her shield raised.
"Should we—"
"No," Aurelie interrupted. "This is his fight. We are of no help against that monster."
Barda nodded, agreeing with the assessment made by their captain. That first charge from Mongul would have sent all of them flying into the wall.
The only thing they could do right was to watch and learn, there would come a time when they would battle on such a level. They needed to prepare for that.