"The Shatter of Mor'Kai"
The forest was no longer silent.
Cracks of energy trembled through the soil, whispering of a presence long buried. The trees, ancient and proud, bent slightly inward, as if fearing what had awakened beneath them. Zawish stood alone, the Dar Metal glove on his hand faintly pulsing blue, his eyes scanning the darkening jungle. His breath was steady, but something in the atmosphere twisted—like the air itself was trying to vomit.
"Yep," Zawish muttered, cracking his neck. "Definitely not a normal Tuesday."
A low, grinding noise erupted beneath his boots. The forest floor split, jagged and wet, and the trees shivered as if something was crawling beneath their roots. From the chasm, a voice poured upward, old and full of splinters.
"You walk in a dead man's dream, Guardian."
Zawish raised a brow. "Cool. Do dead men dream about overdue taxes and cosmic horror? Because I'm really tired of those."
The earth exploded upward. Roots, worms, and ancient bones flew through the air. From the pit rose a towering skeletal figure—twisted ribs wrapped in void-leather, its spine cracked and humming with cursed sigils. Its face was half-mask, half-skull, and a rusted crown floated above its head like a condemned halo. He dragged behind him a long chain of obsidian skulls, each one whispering in a different language. One of them whispered something about breakfast.
This was Mor'Kai the Ruined, once a god of betrayal during the First Collapse, long before Lore Zom crafted time itself. His name had been erased from every living mind—until now.
Mor'Kai looked at Zawish and growled, "I was banished before your world even crawled from stardust. But your timeline is… soft. And the blood of Zandar weakened the seal."
Zawish cracked his knuckles. "Yeah, well. He also screamed like a goat when I broke his jaw."
Mor'Kai didn't blink. "I don't fear humor."
"You will when I punch you so hard your grandkids feel it in the next realm."
With a roar that made the leaves wither, Mor'Kai raised his hand—and the skulls on his chain burst open like grenades of soul-fire. Ghostly warriors emerged, armored in black grief, their faces screaming the regrets of their deaths. One had no face at all, just a mouth repeating, "I failed my child…" over and over.
Zawish felt a tug at his chest. The past was trying to breathe again.
He closed his eyes briefly and saw Chitral—the mountains, the frost, the echo of his father's laugh. He shoved the memory away.
"Not today."
Zawish sprinted forward. The Dar Glove surged, pulling in unseen energy. He dodged a ghost blade, ducked under a screeching banshee's jaw, then leapt into the air and smashed his fist into Mor'Kai's chest. The impact split the air like thunder.
Mor'Kai stumbled but retaliated instantly. Tentacle-like roots shot from his ribs and coiled around Zawish's leg, yanking him into the air. Before he could free himself, Mor'Kai whipped him into a tree with a CRACK. Bark exploded like shrapnel.
"Ow," Zawish groaned, dangling upside down. "Can't you evil gods just monologue instead of wrestling?"
"You are arrogant," Mor'Kai said, stepping forward. "Your pain means nothing."
Zawish suddenly grinned. "Good. Then you won't mind THIS."
He spun midair and fired a raw Dar Pulse from the glove, vaporizing the roots. He landed in a roll, then pulled a tiny black crystal from his belt.
"You know what this is?" he asked.
Mor'Kai narrowed his eyes.
Zawish tossed it like a baseball. "It's a reality destabilizer. But I call it… 'Oops.'"
The crystal detonated midair. The entire field twisted. Reality wobbled like a drunk dancer. Trees bent into loops, ghosts began vomiting smoke, and Mor'Kai howled as his left arm melted into glowing string.
"You would warp reality just to wound me?" Mor'Kai cried.
Zawish spat blood. "I'd warp reality for a good sandwich if I was hungry enough."
He dashed through the haze, slamming his shoulder into Mor'Kai's knee. Bones cracked. The deity screamed as Zawish followed up with a brutal uppercut that launched the god into the air. Mid-flight, Zawish leapt and tackled him back to the ground with a thunderous boom. The jungle shook.
Mor'Kai coughed tar.
"I cannot die."
"You don't have to," Zawish replied, wiping his mouth. "You just have to shut up."
Mor'Kai lashed out in desperation, pulling on the spirits around him. The souls screamed louder, fusing into one colossal phantom beast—twenty eyes, horns made of regret, and claws that smelled like broken promises. It roared and charged.
Zawish dodged, barely. "Oh come on! You combined your ghosts into a Voltron of trauma?"
He turned, lifted both arms, and pulled from the Glove. The Dar Metal screamed with energy, charging up a Zora Pulse.
"You're not real. You're just a ghost in a suit."
The pulse exploded forward, cutting through the air like a divine cannon. The phantom beast disintegrated mid-roar, light piercing every eye.
Mor'Kai watched in horror as his creation died.
And Zawish approached slowly, his glove glowing brighter.
"I've faced gods. I've killed monsters. And I've buried things worse than you," he said coldly. "But you? You're just old news."
Mor'Kai swung a desperate strike—but Zawish caught his wrist and crushed it. With a final burst of energy, Zawish drove the Dar Glove into Mor'Kai's chest.
A scream of a thousand ages ripped the forest apart.
The crown shattered. The skulls turned to ash. Mor'Kai disintegrated into white light.
Zawish stood in the aftermath, his breath heavy, the jungle silent once again. Embers floated through the air like fireflies lost in time.
And then…
A slow, deliberate clap echoed.
He turned.
From the trees stepped a figure—shining silver armor, a black and red cloak dragging behind, and a helmet with no eyes, just a glowing mouth slit. His boots radiated distortion.
"Impressive," the voice echoed. "You killed a god of the old ruin. Cute."
Zawish stared. "Let me guess. You're another angry soul with daddy issues and a plan to rewrite existence?"
The figure laughed—a deep, corrupted sound.
"I am Tarkorr, the Architect of Undoing. And no, I'm not here to rewrite existence."
He raised one finger.
"I'm here to delete it."