The Shadow of Rostos
The darkness was not merely an absence of light; it was a heavy, suffocating weight that pressed against Leo's lungs. He was suspended in a void so absolute that he could no longer tell if his eyes were open or closed. The only reality was the cold bite of the iron shackles biting into his wrists and ankles, pinning him against an invisible wall. Every time he shifted, the rhythmic clink-clink of the chains echoed into the abyss, mocking his captivity.
For what felt like hours, there was only the sound of his own ragged breathing. Then, the silence shattered.
"So, Human ... you have finally arrived."
The voice didn't seem to come from any specific direction. It vibrated through the very air, ancient and laced with a cold, predatory curiosity.
Leo lifted his head, his neck muscles aching. Even in the pitch black, he spoke with a defiance that defied his predicament. "I am here to see Rostos," he spat out, the name tasting like copper in his mouth.
There was a pause. The air grew colder, and a faint, ghostly hum filled the void. "How do you know of Rostos?" the voice hissed, sounding genuinely unsettled for the first time. "That name has been buried under a thousand years of dust and blood. No mortal should carry it on their tongue."
Leo didn't flinch. "Just do your job," he commanded, his voice steady despite the darkness. "The formalities are beneath us both."
The Transformation
A low, rumbling chuckle vibrated through the floor—or where the floor should have been. "Very well," the voice whispered. "If it is destiny you seek, then destiny shall have you."
Suddenly, the world shifted. The oppressive blackness began to dissolve, replaced by a surreal, ethereal glow. The sensation of being suspended vanished as his feet met something solid yet fluid. With a series of sharp, metallic snaps, the heavy chains fell away, vanishing into the mist before they even hit the ground.
Leo stood gasping, rubbing his bruised wrists. He was no longer in a void. He was standing on a surface of crystal-clear water that stretched out like a mirror in every direction. Beneath the surface, vibrant, bioluminescent fish darted to and fro, their scales shimmering like fallen stars.
The air, once stagnant, was now filled with the scent of ozone and ancient stone.
The Midnight Palace
Rising from the watery horizon was a structure of impossible grandeur. A colossal palace of obsidian and silver towered into a sky filled with swirling indigo clouds. It was a masterpiece of gothic architecture, with soaring spires that looked like needles stitching the earth to the heavens.
The palace didn't just sit on the water; it seemed to grow from it. As Leo began to walk, his boots created gentle ripples on the surface, the water supporting his weight as if it were solid glass. The fish followed him, a silent, glowing escort beneath his feet.
As he approached the main perimeter, the massive, iron-wrought gates—etched with symbols of a forgotten language—began to groan. With a sound like a long-forgotten sigh, the doors swung inward, revealing a hallway lined with flickering torches that cast long, dancing shadows.
Leo paused for a heartbeat, looking back at the endless watery expanse. There was no going back now. He straightened his coat, squared his shoulders, and stepped through the threshold. The hunt for Rostos had truly begun.
Chapter Two: The Resurrection of a Titan
The interior of the palace was a cathedral of silence. High, vaulted ceilings disappeared into a swirling mist of violet incense, and the floors were polished marble that reflected Leo's determined stride. He did not walk like a guest; he walked like a conqueror.
Ignoring the haunting echoes of the vast hallway, Leo marched directly toward the far end of the Great Hall. There, atop a dais of jagged onyx, sat the Imperial Throne. It was a seat carved from the bones of primordial stars, cold and intimidating. Without a second thought, Leo ascended the steps and sat. He leaned back, his fingers resting on the armrests, and let out a breath that resonated through the chamber.
"Bring Rostos to me," Leo commanded, his voice ringing with an authority that demanded obedience from the very shadows.
The air shimmered. That same disembodied voice—the one that had taunted him in the darkness—trembled as it spoke again. This time, however, the mockery was gone, replaced by a frantic, shivering reverence.
"My Lord... please, forgive my insolence," the voice pleaded, manifesting as a faint, ghostly vapour near the throne. "I failed to recognise your essence. I did not realise it was you who had returned."
Leo waved a hand dismissively, his eyes cold. "Keep your apologies. Where is Rostos? I did not come here to listen to the whimpering of a gatekeeper."
The spirit hesitated, the mist swirling violently. "Master... Rostos is no longer among the living. He has fallen."
Leo's grip tightened on the throne. The air in the room grew heavy, the pressure rising until the marble floor began to crack. "Fallen? When? How?"
"It was Lucifer," the voice whispered, the name itself seeming to burn the air. "He did not come with an army. He and his companions arrived as shadows, cloaked in the guise of 'The Seekers.' They came to the Cosmic Abyss—the prison where the Great Demons are shackled—under the pretext of an audience. They knelt before Rostos, begging for his wisdom... and then, they struck. It was a betrayal of the highest order. They took his life before he could even draw his blade."
The Silent Calculation
Leo remained silent, but his mind was a storm. Rostos... dead? It seemed impossible.
In the hierarchy of the cosmos, Rostos was a titan. He possessed the raw ethereal might equivalent to six Primordial Powers. He was a guardian whose strength was whispered about in every corner of the multiverse. To think that he was brought down by trickery felt like a physical blow to Leo's chest. He should have sensed it, Leo thought. But Lucifer's cunning has always been his sharpest weapon.
Leo stood up, his cloak billowing behind him like a cloud of smoke. "It matters not," he said aloud, his voice cutting through the gloom. "Death is but a temporary inconvenience for those I deem necessary."
The Rite of the Awakener
Leo descended the stairs of the dais, his boots clicking sharply against the stone. He walked to the centre of the hall, where a massive circular seal was etched into the floor. He stood in the heart of the sigil, his presence expanding until the entire palace began to groan under the weight of his power.
"I, Leo, Architect of the Unseen, summon the soul of Rostos from the Great Beyond!"
He pressed his palms together in a prayer-like gesture. Suddenly, the laws of gravity seemed to dissolve. Leo's body rose slowly into the air, suspended by a vortex of golden and crimson energy. The water outside the palace began to churn, and the bioluminescent fish fled into the depths.
"By the blood of the ancients and the spark of the eternal," Leo roared, his eyes glowing with a terrifying brilliance, "Rostos! I command you to return! Break the chains of the afterlife and walk among the living once more!"
The Return
The palace shook. A pillar of white fire erupted from the centre of the hall, tearing through the ceiling and piercing the indigo sky. For a moment, the world was nothing but blinding light and the sound of a thousand thunders.
As the light faded, a figure began to coalesce in the centre of the room. It was a man of towering stature, clad in armour that looked like forged midnight. His eyes, initially dull and grey, suddenly ignited with a fierce, amber flame.
Rostos—the Warden of the Cosmic Demons—gasped as life rushed back into his lungs. He looked at his hands, feeling the pulse of power returning to his veins. Then, his gaze fell upon Leo, who was descending slowly back to the floor.
Recognising the man who had pulled him back from the abyss, the titan did not hesitate. Rostos sank to one knee, bowing his head so low it nearly touched the marble.
"My life is yours, Master Leo," Rostos spoke, his voice like grinding tectonic plates. "Command me, and I shall set the heavens ablaze."
Sovereign's Crown
The echoes of the resurrection ritual still thrummed in the walls of the obsidian palace. Leo stood at the centre of the hall, his breathing shallow but his gaze sharp. Despite the triumphant return of his general, a shadow of urgency crossed his features.
"We cannot linger here," Leo said, his voice cutting through the fading magical mist. "I must return to the Mortal Realm. I must return to Earth."
Rostos, still kneeling, looked up with a frown of confusion. The titan's brow furrowed as he scanned the shimmering horizon beyond the palace gates. "Master... forgive me, but the fabric of space here has been mangled. The gateways are sealed. From this pocket of the void, there is no path leading back to any version of Earth. We are stranded in the cracks between worlds."
He paused, glancing at Leo's hands, which still hummed with the remnants of the resurrection spell. "But surely... with your Tier-Zero authority, you could simply tear a hole through the dimensions? You could walk through the stars if you so wished."
Leo's expression darkened. He looked down at his palms, where faint, glowing ley-lines of power were slowly receding beneath his skin. "You know as well as I do, Rostos... I cannot. Not yet."
Rostos's eyes widened in sudden realisation. He bowed his head even lower, his voice thick with shame. "I... I humblest apologise, Master. I spoke out of turn. I forgot the Price of the Threshold."
The Treachery of the Soul Ball
The titan stood up, his massive armour clanking like a funeral bell. He looked toward the throne he had once protected. "I must tell you the truth of my fall, Leo. It was not just Lucifer's blade that killed me. It was his leverage."
Leo narrowed his eyes. "Go on."
"He carried a relic," Rostos whispered, a shudder passing through his colossal frame. "The Soul Energy Ball of Urumi. He held her essence in the palm of his hand—flickering, fragile, and screaming. He gave me a choice: I could continue to fight and watch him crush her soul into stardust, or I could surrender my life force to the Abyss. To save her... I had to take my own life. I fell by my own hand to protect the one soul I could not bear to lose."
Leo's jaw tightened. The name Urumi hung in the air like a cold mist. "Lucifer plays with hearts as if they were chess pieces," Leo said coldly. "But he has played his last gambit."
The Burden of the Cursed
Leo turned his back to the throne and looked out at the dark, swirling clouds of the cosmic prison. "Rostos, you are the Warden. You must resume your post. You must take command of the Cursed Legions of Rostos once more. They have been leaderless for too long, and the Cosmic Demons are beginning to stir in their cages."
Rostos looked troubled. "I shall do as you command, but Master... how do you intend to leave this place? If the gateways are barred and your powers are restricted, we are trapped. And even if you find a way, what of the Cosmic Demons? If you break the seal to leave, they will swarm the multiverse. There are thousands of them—each one a world-ender. How do you plan to deal with such a tide of horror?"
Leo walked to the edge of the watery floor, looking down at the bioluminescent fish. A small, grim smile played on his lips.
"I have already calculated the path," Leo said softly. "I intend to annihilate the Curse of Rostos entirely. I will burn the prison to the ground to clear my exit."
Rostos gasped, his amber eyes nearly popping from his head. "Burn it? My Lord, that is impossible! To slaughter the entire host of Cosmic Demons in one breath... even for you, the cost would be... you would have to unleash your True Form!"
Leo turned his head slightly, his gaze catching Rostos's eyes with a terrifying intensity.
"I won't need my True Form," Leo said,