The Cronoverse Army Command Station
A heavy silence draped the vast command station, broken only by the hum of ancient machinery and the distant echoes of marching troops. The air crackled with tension, thick enough to choke on. War was coming—swift, merciless, and inevitable.
At the heart of the station stood Yoton, his presence alone enough to bend reality around him. His voice, deep and commanding, cut through the stillness like a blade.
"Zerich," he called, his words resonating with authority. "Prepare 300,000 Supreme Troops immediately. We depart for war soon—on the Reveiverse."
Zerich, the indomitable Commander of the Supreme Troops, bowed his head in acknowledgment. His armor gleamed under the dim light, each plate forged from the remnants of fallen gods.
"Yes, my Lord," he responded, his voice unwavering. There was no hesitation, no doubt. Only duty.
Tavis' Home
Elsewhere, in the shadowed halls of his private sanctum, Tavis, the Head of the Appointment Faction, paced restlessly. His thoughts were a storm of fury and betrayal.
"This war cannot be avoided, Krelious," he muttered to himself, his voice dripping with venom. "You have no respect for this House. You don't deserve to remain our High Head anymore."
His fingers clenched into fists, knuckles white with suppressed rage.
"When we are done with the Reveiverse—and that bastard god, Carel—you will be next, Krelious." A cruel smile twisted his lips. "Let's pray you can avoid a war and the division of your House all at the same time."
The threat hung in the air, a promise of blood and retribution.
The Creation Faction Meeting Ground
Under the towering arches of the Creation Faction's sacred meeting grounds, Zion, the faction's Head, stood before his assembled members. His expression was calm, but his eyes burned with quiet fury.
"I do not have any problem with the decision of our High Head," he began, his voice measured. "But the disrespect and disgrace given to him by Nielan will not go unpunished."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the gathered gods.
Leyen, the Second Member, stepped forward, his voice sharp as a blade. "Do not worry, my Lord. The War Faction will not escape our hands. Once we settle this chaos dispute, they will pay—for nullifying our oaths as rulers and for the disgrace they have shown our Head."
The air hummed with vengeance, a silent oath sworn in blood.
The War Faction Meeting Ground
In the darkened war chamber of the War Faction, Nielan, their furious leader, slammed his fist against the obsidian table. The sound echoed like thunder.
"That bastard Krelious made a mockery of us in front of all the gods present at the meeting!" he roared. "I swear—he will pay for his sins!"
Dainen, the Second Member, nodded in agreement, his eyes alight with malice. "And as for that little god, Carel… this is only the beginning of what is to come for his Verse."
Amiss, the youngest among them, hesitated before speaking.
"If I may say something, Chief…"
Nielan turned his gaze toward him, his patience thin. "Go on, Amiss."
Amiss swallowed hard but pressed on. "Shouldn't we ask for forgiveness first? Then, slowly, we can put our plans in place. If we rampage now, the odds will be heavily against us."
Nielan's expression darkened. "Hmph. It doesn't matter if the odds are against us. We have nearly a zillion Chaos at our command. No more delays."
But Deriss, the Third Member, shook his head. "I'm sorry, Chief, but I agree with Amiss."
Lenon, the Fourth Member, sighed. "Same here, Chief. I agree with them. But I will still follow you to war—even now. However… as long as Krelious remains alive, even a zillion Chaos may not be enough to kill him. If we send them all against him, he will simply erase them and still have enough strength to strip us of our authority and punish us."
Deriss nodded grimly. "Indeed, Chief. If we are to have any hope of winning, we must plan carefully—and smartly."
Dainen exhaled sharply. "I agree with all their statements, Chief."
Nielan's jaw tightened, his rage simmering beneath the surface. Finally, he relented. "Fine. I will think about it… before the Meeting of Rulers arrives."
The Decision Faction Meeting Ground
In the luminous halls of the Decision Faction, Krelious, the High Head, stood with his most trusted advisor, Nealon. His voice was calm, but his words carried the weight of inevitability.
"Nealon," he said, "see to it that those Chaos creatures are completely eliminated before the Meeting of Rulers begins."
Nealon bowed deeply. "Yes, High Head."
Krelious studied her for a moment, his gaze piercing. "Listen, Nealon… you are not to die. We may be among the Ultimate Beings now, but remember—there are beings out there who can rival the power of a Ruler… and kill us, if we make a wrong move."
Nealon smiled, her confidence unshaken. "You worry too much, High Head. Remember—we are the Ultimate Existence, with unrivaled power and authority. No god or unknown beast can take my life."
Krelious did not return her smile.
When their discussion ended, Nealon strode out of the meeting ground, her steps resolute. She joined the Supreme Army, where Yoton and Zerich awaited.
Together, they departed—for the Reveiverse.
For war.
For vengeance.
For the fate of all existence.
To Be Continued.