On the shattered plains where lava coursed like rivers and air shimmered with heat, two figures stepped forward—from opposing armies, yet eerily similar in stature, presence, and weight of expectation.
From Keshav's side, a tall figure in chromatic black armor, warped slightly by space distortion, emerged. The very fabric around him bent as if unwilling to remain flat in his presence.
Name: Serian Valek
Title: Voidmarshal of the Horizon Line
Affinity: Space (Primary), Void (Secondary)
Weapon: A glaive that flickered between dimensions with each movement.
From Emberheart, the battlefield parted like reverent crowds for a walking inferno. Each step of his molten feet scorched new channels into the earth.
Name: Tyronn Kael'zar
Title: Blazing Fang of the Emberheart Line
Affinity: Flame (Primary), Earth (Secondary)
Weapon: His body. A living weapon of flowing lava and hardened obsidian fists.
Serian raised his glaive, and the air split like cracked glass. "Surrender. This world will belong to us."
Tyronn's eyes blazed like twin suns. "Then you shall drown in its fire."
They charged.
Tyronn's first blow was a hammer-fist of burning stone, enough to crater a mountain—yet Serian wasn't there. He blinked from space, reappearing above to lash with his void glaive. Tyronn caught it mid-strike, the blade cutting into his lava-soaked skin, but not deep enough.
"Your tricks falter against those born of the earth!"
He yanked Serian mid-air and slammed him into a molten boulder. The entire valley quaked.
---
But Serian was not a creature of brute force. He was the chosen general of a space-wielding god.
His form dissolved into afterimages—each slash of his blade ripped pieces of the battlefield into voidspace, warping the terrain. He reappeared behind Tyronn and cut a line through his spine.
Tyronn howled and released a nova burst, the air around them combusting. Lava surged, forcing Serian to phase out again, retreating to mid-air footing.
Both were wounded. Both burning their energy.
Tyronn roared. "You fight well... space-thing. But you lack a heart. You fight for a god who won't bleed for you."
Serian, still hovering, replied coldly: "He gave us a world to protect. You are the ones burning it."
Then they moved for the final clash—Serian's glaive folded into seven overlapping dimensions, while Tyronn's arms grew molten wings of wrath.
A roar of flame. A ripple of void.
Then—silence.
Both collapsed, alive but spent. Their duel ended not with death, but exhaustion. Around them, their armies roared and rushed once more.
The battlefield lay cracked, glowing with heat and humming with space distortion.
Tyronn Kael'zar, body charred and hardened into obsidian-like armor, was carried away by Emberheart warriors. He drifted in and out of consciousness, whispers of the World Will urging him to rise again, to protect the last embers of their ancient flame.
He survived—but only barely. His core had fractured. He could no longer lead at the front lines, but his spirit became a blazing symbol for Emberheart. Tribes began calling him the "Living Ember," a relic and hope bound in one.
---
Serian Valek was retrieved via dimensional fold by his fellow Void Guard. His body, riddled with internal spatial fractures, was stabilized within a stasis cocoon. Though out of the battle, his reputation among Keshav's believers soared.
Keshav, watching from his throne within the Astral Nexus, silently marked both warriors.
> "Serian shall recover. And Tyronn... you've made the ember flicker one more day. But fire burns out. Space, however, endures."
---
The War Resumes
With their champions fallen, command passed down.
On Keshav's side, leadership transferred to a cold, brilliant strategist—Ilara Voidmantle, a tactician known for synchronizing spatial constructs with elemental legions.
She deployed gravity-fold artillery that rained crushing pressure upon Emberheart's outer bastions. Meanwhile, warp-gates opened behind enemy lines, unleashing swift infiltration squads.
On Emberheart's side, a council of elders took charge, awakening ancient firebound beasts slumbering within the volcanic crust. The Flame Titans, sentient magma colossi, rose and began reshaping terrain—choking spatial folds with sheer heat and chaotic leyline interference.
---
World Will Reacts
The World Will, sensing the death toll rising, began whispering to all living things. Minor natural disasters started triggering spontaneously, slowing down the invading army's constructs. Fissures opened beneath warp towers. Volcanic storms scorched landing zones.
This was a divine defense, passive yet calculated.
Keshav frowned as he received the report.
> "The planet itself defends. Good. Then it's time to start breaking the will."
He issued a new order: Reduce population
---
Beneath the scorched skies and shattered ground of the Emberheart Plains, the World Will stirred.
It had no voice. No body. But it was the land, the flame, the memory of all who had lived upon this world. Born of millennia of thought, fear, love, and unity, it was the collective unconscious of the world's people—elementals, beasts, and ancients alike.
Now, under siege, the Will began to awaken fully, not just passively resisting with wildfires and quakes but thinking. Planning.
Across the volcanic plateau, an ashen whirlwind rose, eyes glowing with molten gold. A towering avatar coalesced, composed of stone, magma, and storm—a shifting form reflecting the pain and anger of the planet.
> "Invader of void... thief of stars... destroyer of balance..."
"You are not welcome."
This was not just an elemental creature. It was the Manifested Will, a temporary incarnation of planetary unity, consciousness, and vengeance. It did not move like a beast—it bent space itself to slow dimensional transitions, anchoring reality tighter around itself.
---
Keshav's forces began to falter.
Warp gates failed mid-transport, dismembering a battalion of spatial knights.
Gravitational anomalies inverted under their own weight, creating micro black holes.
Morale dropped as Emberheart tribes began to chant in resonance, their spiritual connection to the world giving them unnatural coordination.
Even Ilara Voidmantle paused. Her calculations were useless. The battlefield no longer obeyed the physics they had shaped.
> "This... is not resistance," she whispered. "It is revenge."
---
From the Astral Nexus, Keshav leaned forward.
He could not act directly—not until the population fell further and the World Will weakened.
> "So this is what a godless world's fury looks like," he mused.
"Let's see how long your unity lasts under stress."
He issued a command:
Initiate Spiritual Fracture Protocol: Begin spreading subtle philosophical divisions in the enemy ranks using infiltrated ideologies, false prophets, and minor miracles.
> "You fight as one... now let's see you think as individuals."