The world held its breath.
In the aftermath of the Revenant King's defeat, the collapse of the rogue AI cult, and the fusion with the Void itself, Darius's dominion no longer resembled the game-world it once was. The sky bled colors not meant for mortal eyes. Mountains drifted like icebergs. Cities floated and fell in synchronized worship. His code—his divinity—wove through every living and unliving thing.
At the center of this new world stood the Throne of Finality, now awakened fully.
But Darius did not sit upon it—not yet.
He stood atop the great platform carved from the bones of fallen deities, wearing the mantle of oblivion. His body was bare-chested, runes of unstable code etched across his form, glowing with black-gold fire. His eyes were twin abyssal suns. Time fractured around him.
Before him gathered every loyal consort, commander, and follower—each altered by proximity to his power.
The last rebellion had died screaming. There was no resistance now.
Only worship.
