(I was just thinking. Why not show a different side to this character? Everyone already knows he’s a villain. But he wasn’t always a villain. So here’s a chapter.)

On the planet Pandora, there was a breathtakingly beautiful place known only to a few. Where sharp mountains pierced the heavens and endless green plains stretched beyond the horizon, nature’s majesty reigned in serene harmony. Yet even this idyllic paradise hid a secret known only to a handful. Beneath the ground, beneath layers of stone and the roots of ancient trees, lay the entrance to a prison that held a creature born to destroy worlds.

Now, that beauty was gone. The mountains had been reduced to piles of rubble, and across the valley ran massive cracks, as if the planet itself were trying to tear apart from within. All of it was the result of one battle — the clash between Alex and the being known as the Destroyer.

In the middle of a colossal crater left after the fight stood Alex. A cigarette slowly burned between his fingers, releasing a thin trail of smoke. He gazed calmly at what remained of his opponent. The Destroyer’s body was mangled beyond recognition — bones jutted from torn flesh, and thick violet blood seeped into the ground. Its limbs were completely destroyed, and its head — or what was left of it — fared little better.

Alex waited in silence. He wanted to see the Destroyer rise again, to continue the fight. Despite having the strength to kill any enemy with a single strike, he never rushed the finale. He enjoyed drawing out the battle — especially when he found an opponent who could withstand more than one hit.

Minutes passed. The cigarette burned down. The Destroyer didn’t move. Alex frowned, then raised an eyebrow and sighed before stepping closer. Crouching down, he pulled a thin wooden stick from his inventory. At first glance, it looked ordinary — but it was actually a branch from the sacred tree of the High Elves’ forest. Alex had once bought it from a street vendor in Orario for a few coins — the seller simply hadn’t known its true worth.

Alex poked the mangled corpse with the stick a couple of times. No reaction.He tapped again. Still nothing.

“Come on… is he really dead? What a disappointment,” Alex muttered irritably, glaring at the remains.

Annoyance stirred within him. He had expected more. Khan Maykr, who had tried to recreate the Icon of Sin, clearly hadn’t managed to make anything truly formidable. The Destroyer had been one of her prototypes — a failure, yes, but still crafted from the flesh of something capable of surviving the death of worlds. Alex had been sure it would last at least one or two more phases of combat. But once again, reality turned out dull.

He concluded that perhaps the cause was the long imprisonment. The Destroyer had spent too much time under the influence of the Eridium from which its prison was made. That material didn’t just restrain — it drained. Upon being freed, the creature had tried to recover but never regained its former strength — the power that had once consumed entire planets and brought about the extinction of the Eridian race who sealed it within Pandora’s core.

Alex clicked his tongue.”Ah well… dead is dead. A good warm-up anyway. Time to head back. Griad.”

He pointed a finger at the Destroyer’s body. A burst of black flame appeared at the tip, pulsing with an eerie glow. The heat warped the air, melting stone, and even before the flame touched the corpse, it had already begun to smoke.

When the black mass finally reached the remains, the Destroyer’s body ignited, flooding the crater with a sinister light. Alex gave the burning remains a brief glance, shook his head, and sighed.

“Broken toy,” he thought.

He pushed off the ground lightly, leaping out of the crater. Stretching his arms, he was about to leave when he froze. A deep, heavy sound echoed through the air — a heartbeat. Once. Then again. The echo rolled across the shattered valley, bouncing off the cliffs.

Alex snapped his head toward the crater. His eyes narrowed. A mechanism of Khan Maykr’s? A trap? Or…

A second later — THUMP-THUMP. The sound grew louder, stronger. The ground beneath his feet began to tremble.

Alex barely managed to take a step when a blinding pillar of red energy burst out of the crater. It pierced the sky, painting the clouds a blood-red hue. The air trembled with the sheer rage and destruction emanating from that source.

Alex instantly recognized that resonance — that vibration filled with malice. He had felt it before.

“This is getting much more interesting…” he whispered.

A wave of crimson energy exploded outward, spreading in every direction. Alex stood motionless, allowing the blast to pass through him. His gaze was cold, yet in the depths of his eyes burned a spark — anticipation. He had just received what he wanted: confirmation of his suspicions.

While Alex remained in the Destroyer’s valley, strange and unprecedented changes began to sweep across all of Pandora. The sky turned a deep, ominous shade of blood. The clouds pulsed with crimson light, and along with it, something spread across the planet — a force so overwhelming that Pandora itself seemed to tremble.

The changes did not go unnoticed. Lilith, Maya, Moxxi, Angel, Tannis, and the rest of the group all lifted their heads toward the heavens. Stepping onto the balcony, they silently watched as a bloody glow spread across the world. None of them understood what was happening. No one had an explanation. The only one who could answer — was now standing at the epicenter of that nightmare.

The residents of Sanctuary poured out of their homes one by one. Panic spread as they gazed at the sky, whispering to each other about the end of the world. The air grew heavy, pressing down — as if the planet itself had turned into hell, unleashing all its horrors and pain. People could feel fear, rage, and anguish — all at once, as though their souls had been filled with a foreign darkness.

“I don’t like what’s happening right now,” said Tannis, staring at the bloody sky. “This is far too insane… even for me.”

“Only for you?” replied Lilith, not taking her eyes off the crimson glow. “Where else can you see something like this? The sky’s turned to blood — and I don’t know what it means, but it’s definitely nothing good.”

“Maybe we should ask Alex’s family?” suggested Moxxi, glancing at the others. “They might know what’s going on.”

With no better option, Lilith, Maya, Moxxi, and Angel pulled out the phones Alex had given them and sent a message in the family chat. But even there, no one could provide an answer. Those who had been watching the live broadcast of the fight saw only a blinding explosion and a surge of red energy that engulfed Alex — after that, nothing was visible.

However, some of the girls soon began to remember. They had seen something like this before.

And the first to realize it were those who came from a world that had endured a zombie apocalypse — one that had escalated into a demonic invasion.

Saya quickly typed into the chat: “The sky looked like this where demons gathered. The air was filled with their hatred.”

But even that theory didn’t explain what was happening. All the demons were long gone, their creator dead. Which meant the reason behind the crimson sky had to be something entirely different.

Lilith exhaled heavily and turned her eyes toward the large screen where the live feed still flickered. The camera shook, the image breaking up with static. At the center of the blast, the crimson energy still burned, obscuring Alex’s figure.

After the explosion completely engulfed him, Alex hadn’t moved an inch. When the light finally faded, he stood in absolute silence. Everything around him had been obliterated. The entire valley of the Destroyer was now a massive crater. Only one small patch of land remained intact — the one beneath Alex’s feet.

In the middle of the crater pulsed a massive cocoon of red energy. Alex watched it intently, studying the waves rippling across its surface. Dozens of thoughts raced through his mind. Perhaps a hidden mechanism within the Destroyer’s body had activated — something installed by Khan Maykr — transforming it into the Icon of Sin. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Maybe the Griad spell Alex had used to burn the remains had acted as a catalyst, awakening something unexpected — something beyond what had been intended.

Two possibilities spun in his mind: first, that the Destroyer truly was reborn into its ultimate form — the Icon of Sin; second, that it wasn’t him inside the cocoon at all. Someone else was.

The energy column radiated not just fury — it was concentrated hatred, raw malice, something that didn’t belong to a being born from the spark of the Allfather — the one who symbolized light and wisdom.

Alex frowned.

What had Khan Maykr done to twist a fragment of divine power into a source of pure madness? How had she managed to corrupt the very essence of light itself — to the point where the air of an entire planet became saturated with rage and fear?

He knew what would happen next. That wave of hatred had already begun to infect all living things. Pandora — a world where insanity was already the norm — now groaned under the weight of a new darkness. Alex had no doubt: the Bandits and Psychos, whose minds were always on the edge, had already started killing each other in blind fury, unaware that they had become pawns in someone else’s game.

Alex exhaled slowly, staring at the pulsing cocoon.

“So, it’s begun…” he murmured quietly.

The pillar of red energy stopped rising into the sky and began to shrink, but the heavens remained blood-red — thick, negative energy condensed above the valley. Crimson clouds gathered over the crater, as if welcoming the being that was about to emerge from the cocoon.

Alex felt something fall onto his cheek. He wiped it with his finger — a crimson drop stained his skin. The metallic scent spread through the air. Looking up, he saw blood begin to rain from the clouds. He had seen something like this before — when Zhang Ya lost control of her influence, her dark emotions had warped reality so severely that blood literally rained from the sky.

The drops struck the transparent barrier that had formed around Alex. He tore his gaze from the crimson clouds and focused on the cocoon — cracks had begun to spread across its surface. A second later, it burst apart, unleashing another shockwave of scarlet energy that scattered the clouds; dust and debris filled the air. Alex waved his hand, clearing the haze before him.

In the center of the crater stood a man clad in crimson armor that looked as though it had been forged from flesh itself. Alex’s eyes widened for a brief moment — he knew this man, and he knew that he was supposed to be dead. The man’s upper body was bare, his legs encased in blood-red plate armor, his torso covered in lines of ancient script. But his face drew the most attention — eyes glowing with bloodlust and an expression twisted by eternal rage.

It was Davoth — the one believed to be destroyed, the one whose power was supposed to have been consumed by the Slayer.

Davoth stood motionless in the crater, studying his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists as though growing accustomed to his new body. Once he was satisfied, he tilted his head back toward the blood-red sky and let out a booming, deranged laugh — one filled with hatred toward all his creations and all life itself. After Maykr’s betrayal and the revenge he had taken, Davoth still hadn’t abandoned his original goal: to find the key to immortality for his people. But from the darker side of his soul, a new desire had been born — to bring suffering to countless universes.

When the laughter faded, Davoth lowered his bloodshot eyes and caught sight of a figure standing nearby. Narrowing his gaze, he recognized the man he had seen once before.

“I didn’t expect you to still be alive, false savior,” Davoth said with an arrogant smile. “The Monolith wasn’t as strong as he believed himself to be. A pity — he was a useful ally.”

Alex pulled out a cigarette and replied evenly,”I didn’t expect to see you alive either, Davoth. Your body was supposed to be destroyed, and whatever remained of your power merged with William. So how the hell did your dead ass come back?”

Davoth smirked.”Who knows? And where’s the Slayer? Didn’t you two join forces to kill me and the Monolith? Or has he lost his purpose now that his crusade is over? My army burned his world to ashes, then the next one that took him in, and even the third — the one he swore to protect. No matter how hard he tried, I took everything from him.”

“The Slayer wiped the floor with you, to start with. Argent D’Nur is recovering, the demons are dead. You’re back — but for how long? Also, tell me — how exactly did you return? I like answers that come after breaking someone’s face. You ready?” Alex spat toward Davoth.

The drop landed at Davoth’s feet. He looked down and remembered exactly who stood before him. “False Savior” — that was what they called Alex. He wasn’t a savior in the traditional sense; he was another kind of monster, much like the Slayer himself. If the Slayer butchered his enemies without mercy, Alex first humiliated them — and then finished them off.

Davoth’s expression darkened, the fire of hatred igniting in his crimson eyes.

Suddenly, Davoth clenched his fists — and in his right hand, a sword of red energy materialized, ancient runes flowing along its blade. Even in his partial resurrection from a fragment of the All-Father’s essence, the Creator of the universe still remembered how to forge weapons for battle.

“I will not let you humiliate me,” Davoth declared, pointing the blade at Alex. “Not someone like you.”

Alex replied with an almost calm smile.

“I just spat, and you’re already mad? The Monolith had it worse — he got slapped in the face a couple of times with a purple dildo. You’re lucky so far — you’ve avoided that fate.”

The air tensed — another battle was about to begin. Only a second of silence remained before the clash, and then the darkness and blood-red sky over Pandora reminded everyone: this was more than just the return of an old enemy.

But before Alex could move, Davoth vanished and reappeared right beside him, sword already raised for a strike. Alex summoned Yamato at the last moment — the blade flared into existence in his hand, and he managed to bring the sheath up in time to block. The crimson energy blade crashed against the steel, and the collision of their powers sent a devastating shockwave across the plain.

Davoth narrowed his eyes, increasing the pressure, but Alex, holding Yamato in one hand, endured the onslaught without faltering. He knew that the being before him wasn’t just a god with destructive power — he was a warrior. Ruthless, cold-blooded, and willing to use any dirty trick necessary.

And Alex was right. Davoth suddenly raised his leg and kicked toward his chest, but Alex twisted the sheath slightly, deflecting the blow. Sparks flew as their strength clashed again.

He could feel it clearly — Davoth was weaker than before. The first time, he had resurrected himself through his own life sphere. This time, it was through barely a tenth of the All-Father’s power. And yet, his strength still seemed excessive. Why? The answer was obvious — he had been reborn within the body of the Destroyer, the being destined to become the Icon of Sin.

Alex knew what that meant. The Destroyer could adapt — not just to attacks, like Mahoraga, but to the opponent himself: his style, his strength, even his thoughts. It was like Mahoraga on steroids — endlessly evolving until it surpassed its enemy.

“Not a bad body you got there,” Alex remarked, deflecting another blow. “Khan Maykr probably had no idea you could resurrect this way.”

“She could never have known!” Davoth roared, striking again. “I created Khan Maykr and all the others! They are my creations! How could they ever know what went on in my mind? They won only because I trusted them! I trusted my children — born to aid me! But they betrayed me! They betrayed everything I built! For what?! Greed? Eternal life? Or just because they didn’t want to obey?!”

He pressed harder with every word, his sword whistling through the air, cutting through space itself. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novel⚑fire.net

“Or perhaps they betrayed me because I neglected them? Just as I neglected the first world I created… Tell me, False Savior! Why did they betray me?!”

“I wouldn’t say I don’t understand you, Davoth,” Alex replied calmly, parrying each attack with flawless precision. “When you’re alone for eternity, and then someone comes along… and you fear losing them again — that fear takes root in your heart. Even a being like you can fear loneliness. You were afraid of losing those you created. That fear became the seed that grew into betrayal. Khan Maykr didn’t just betray you — she inherited your fear.”

“WHAT WERE THEY AFRAID OF?!” Davoth roared, swinging his sword with furious intensity. “I was their father! Their creator! I LOVED THEM — as I loved the people of Jekkad! I gave them Urdak so they could live in peace! So why… why were they afraid of me?!”

Each of his blows was accompanied by an explosion of force. The earth trembled, the air cracked, and the sky seemed to darken from the rage pouring out of him. Alex could see it — emotions long buried were awakening inside Davoth: pain, resentment, betrayal. Everything he had once tried to forget.

Davoth once again felt himself as he had been — a god betrayed by his own creations. Before his eyes rose that day when Khan Maykr and the All-Father had turned against him, when he felt the knife in his back and lost his light side, trapped in his own world — Jekkad, corrupted by his darkness.

His children had become monsters, his paradise had turned into hell. And now, with every strike, those memories seared his mind.

Alex watched him closely. He expected to see a soulless god, devoid of compassion, but instead he saw a suffering being — a warrior unable to bear his own pain.

And then Alex understood: Davoth’s current resurrection did not come from his dark essence, but from his light — the very part that belonged to the All-Father. Now two sides fought within him, and feelings long forgotten returned with renewed strength.

Every strike Davoth delivered was accompanied by flashes of memory. Alex saw them — as if peering into the very depths of his soul.

He saw Jekkad — a world shining with light, beautiful and alive. Streets paved with white stone, majestic buildings in the style of ancient Greece, laughing children, and people greeting their creator not as a god, but as a neighbor.

The young Davoth, dressed in white robes, walked along the street with a warm smile. One child tripped and collided with him. Davoth lifted the boy, smiled gently, and brushed off his shoulder. In the reflection of the nearest window, Alex saw his face — not filled with rage, but with kindness and warmth.

Then Alex realized — before him stood not just an Evil God. Before him stood a fallen father, one who still could not forgive himself for the loss of his light.

Davoth continued his path, leaving the city’s borders. Beyond the walls stretched endless fields reaching the horizon, where simple people worked tending the crops. Everyone who saw Davoth greeted him with a warm smile — and he returned it in kind.

But over time, everything began to change.

He watched his creations age and die, watched as their families mourned their loss. That was when the seed of fear took root in his heart. Davoth increasingly dwelled on the thought that his greatest creation — the people who gave him purpose — would one day vanish, leaving him alone once more.

On one such day, after yet another funeral, he sat on the balcony of his palace, gazing at the snow-white city bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. Children’s laughter, joyful cries, the smiles of passersby — none of it brought him comfort anymore. He knew that one day, it would all disappear.

And the longer he dwelled on it, the stronger the fear grew — the fear of being alone again.

He did not want to create a new race to fill the void. No, he wanted the people of Jekkad to remain with him forever, so that no one would ever leave. Thus, a mad plan took root in his mind — to make everyone immortal like himself, so that no one would know the pain of loss.

But no matter how hard Davoth tried, immortality slipped through his hands. He created, destroyed, searched — all in vain. Then he created Maykr — a new race, endowed with wisdom and power, capable of helping him realize his vision.

However, he hadn’t noticed how the fear nesting in his heart had passed on to his creations. Just as Davoth had feared losing the people of Jekkad, so too had the Maykr feared losing him. They worried that once their mission was complete, their creator would turn away, leaving them as the world had once been left. And that fear became the cause of their betrayal. The All-Father knew: the moment Davoth discovered the secret of immortality, his gaze would return to Jekkad, forgetting the Maykr. That was when the treachery occurred.

Watching these memories, Alex felt only sorrow and pity. Everything had been destroyed in an instant. Previously, Alex had seen only a merciless Evil God, but now before him stood a very different Davoth — one who had once been kind and merciful, who had wanted only happiness for his children.

Meanwhile, the battle did not stop. Davoth, consumed by rage, attacked tirelessly. His eyes burned with a bloody light, each strike heavier than the last. The Valley of the Destroyer had become a scorched wasteland. The earth was split by deep cracks, the rocks turned to ash, and every new blow generated thunderous noise and bursts of energy.

Alex didn’t know what to feel. On one hand, he faced a ruthless god who had destroyed worlds and caused the birth of the soulless warrior known as the Doom Slayer. But on the other, he faced a being who had once simply feared being alone.

“You know, Davoth,” Alex said, parrying another strike and kicking him in the chest, “the reason the Maykr feared you is much simpler than you think.”

Davoth staggered, stepping back a few paces, feeling his ribs crack. His breathing became heavy. He understood — now he was weak, and his emotions tore at him from within. Everything he had once buried resurfaced, tormenting his mind.

He lifted his gaze. Anger blazed in his eyes. But Alex, standing opposite him, no longer radiated arrogance. No trace of mockery, no familiar cold sarcasm — only calm and sorrow.

They stood facing each other in the ruined valley, and only the clang of metal broke the silence.

“And what do you think is the reason for their fear, False Savior?” Davoth asked, clutching his chest and struggling to hold his sword.

“You know, Davoth…” Alex exhaled smoke from his cigarette and looked him directly in the eyes. “I only ever saw a monster in you. A being who didn’t care about life. After your return, you destroyed countless worlds. How many universes did you burn? Ten? Hundreds? How many souls did Khan Maykr erase under your influence? You became a symbol of destruction, an embodiment of darkness. But now I see only a father in you — one who feared losing his children.”

He paused. Ash from his cigarette fell onto the cracked ground.

“I saw Jekkad. It was beautiful. But now — it’s dead. Urdak is gone. Everything you ever created has vanished into nothingness. Only fragments of the All-Father, scattered across the universe, remain to remind anyone of you. And all of it was caused by your fear. When you created the Maykr, the shadow of loneliness already lived in your heart. And that fear passed on to them. You feared losing your children — they feared that you would abandon them. That fear became the cause of their betrayal. Otherwise, how do you explain Samur hiding the All-Father’s life sphere next to you? The All-Father wanted to be near you. Even after death.”

“What are you talking about, False Savior?!” Davoth roared, his voice a mixture of pain and anger. “I would never abandon my children! I shared my wisdom with them, cared for them! I would never turn away from my creations!”

“Maybe you didn’t intend to,” Alex replied calmly, looking at him through the curling smoke, “but fear is stronger than logic. They didn’t believe. They thought that once they fulfilled their purpose, you would simply erase them, deeming them unnecessary. That you would just… stop loving them. The All-Father never craved the throne, Davoth. He was simply afraid of you. Afraid of becoming an unnecessary child, created for a purpose, not for life.”

Davoth stared at Alex, and after a few moments, he erupted into a loud, almost hysterical laugh. But there was no joy in that laughter—only an abyss of pain and sorrow. It was the laugh of a being that had finally heard the truth but could not accept it. Blood-red tears streamed from Davoth’s eyes, leaving dark streaks across his face. Alex watched silently, and a phrase spoken long ago by a mortal flashed in his mind:

“Do not cry, demon. What fears trouble you? Do not cry for them, demon. Wasn’t it for this reason that you became a monster, so that you would not cry anymore? For when a person’s tears run dry—he becomes a monster.”

Those words perfectly described Davoth’s current state. Once a kind god, a creator and protector of life, he had become a monster consumed by hatred for his own creations. The blood-red tears streaming down his cheeks were the last reminder of his former self.

Alex wondered—did Davoth know that his resurrection through the light side would only bring another tragedy? Did he understand that this would bring not redemption, but just another drop of sorrow into the endless ocean of loneliness?

He lifted his gaze to the crimson sky and exhaled smoke from his cigarette upward, watching it dissolve into the air.

“Interesting,” Alex thought, “what did the Father feel when Lucifer betrayed him? Did His heart ache when the two brothers raised their weapons against each other?..”

Meanwhile, somewhere in the silence between worlds, the Creator sat in his workshop. He settled comfortably in a white armchair, a small table beside him with tea steaming gently. On the table was a photograph: the Creator himself surrounded by Nyaruko, Jinx, and Anya. All four wore Mickey Mouse ear headbands, and behind them towered huge roller coasters. They laughed, radiating pure, genuine happiness.

The Creator looked at the photograph, a faint, almost melancholic smile appearing on his face. He ran his fingers across the glass, as if wishing to touch that moment. He knew—he had seen everything happening now. He knew what Lucifer was doing, what Michael was occupied with, and, of course, he understood that Alex had encountered Davoth once again.

He heard his son’s thoughts and sighed.

“Such is the price of freedom,” he thought. “Without it, Lucifer would never have become what he was meant to be.”

Alex still stood under the crimson sky, calmly watching as Davoth’s hysterical laughter faded, turning into quiet, muffled sobs. He felt no anger toward him—only pity. Inside Davoth, chaos reigned—his light and dark sides, long separated, could no longer coexist. Their collision was tearing his soul apart.

Alex saw the storm raging within him. Once an all-powerful god who had created an entire universe, he was now only a shadow of himself. His power had waned—only a tiny spark remained of his former might.

Most of his darkness had been absorbed by the Slayer; the rest had been used by Khan Maykr for experiments to create the Icon of Sin. From his once limitless power, only a hundredth remained… yet even that was enough to destroy an entire planet.

Alex knew that Davoth could regain strength if he began consuming the souls of living beings.

“So that’s how it is,” Davoth rasped, lowering his head. “My children betrayed me… because they feared I would abandon them. What a pathetic reason. How utterly pathetic they are.”

Alex sighed. He felt that the light side of Davoth’s soul had lost. Darkness had completely consumed the remnants of light. It was inevitable. Darkness had become an inseparable part of his being.

“So… you’ve truly become yourself again, Davoth,” Alex said quietly, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “Sad. As they say, it’s easier to hate than to love. Or maybe you just can’t accept the truth?”

Davoth lifted his gaze.

“Does it matter? Everything I created is already destroyed. What’s the point of remembering what’s already dead?” His voice carried exhaustion mixed with mockery.

“You’re right,” Alex nodded. “There’s no point. So it’s time to end this. I had hoped that, with the return of your light, you would become the god you once were. But alas, the darkness in your heart is far deeper than any light. Now it doesn’t matter.”

Davoth laughed, madness ringing through it.

“Ha-ha-ha! Come on, show me what you’re capable of, False Savior! Or will you try to save me again?”

Alex shook his head.

“No. Saving one who cannot control their own darkness is pointless. So… farewell, Davoth. Your story is remarkable, though with a sorrowful ending. But I will remember you not as the Dark Lord… but as the merciful God you once were.”

Davoth only smirked. But suddenly, deep within him, a faint spark of light, long dormant in his essence, flared one last time. For a moment, it pushed back all the darkness, and Davoth felt himself as he once had been—the Creator of Jeckcad, a kind and wise God.

He saw Alex draw his blade. Everything froze. Davoth understood—this was the end. But instead of fear, he felt something else—peace. Faces of Jeckcad’s inhabitants flashed before his eyes, the smiles of children, streets bathed in sunlight. He remembered what he had lived for.

And when the blade pierced his chest, Davoth smiled—for the first time in eternity. The light in his eyes faded, but in that final moment, he knew: this was not the end. He would return. But would he return with light… or only darkness again? No one knew—not Alex, and not even Davoth himself.

To be continued…

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