The camera of history pans across the smoldering ruins of the oil field, centering on Tenebris Marcam. He clutches his weeping red eye, his shadow form flickering and failing until the darkness fully dissipates. For the first time, his true physical form is revealed: a slim, pale figure clad in a sleek black-and-green scientist's outfit. His face is sharp, defined by cold "hunter" eyes that glow a piercing, predatory yellow.
"Damn girl..." he hisses through the blinding pain. He spreads his arms, and concentric black circles swirl around him, constricting tighter and tighter until he vanishes into the void.
Tenebris materializes back in the Relic World, but the once-majestic dimension is unrecognizable. The sky is a bruised, sickly purple, and the landscape has become a graveyard of shattered architecture and broken memories. He looks toward the Plague Doctor's palace—once a beacon of power, now a jagged skeleton of its former glory. From the oppressive fog, a distant, gravelly voice echoes, carrying a weight of pure malice: "They think they can beat the Awakened... corrupt them all. The Awakened must march to death." The Vile Wretched lets out a chilling, echoing laugh that rattles the very ruins.
Tenebris grits his teeth, his yellow eyes burning with defiance. "Plague Doctor! Tell me if you are still alive! Speak to me through your telepathic power!"
A long, agonizing silence follows before a rasping, broken voice enters his mind. "Tell the GDA..." a wet cough interrupts the thought, "They need to be ready for the worst outcome. They are fighting two fronts at once... they must focus on the Awakened, not Dr. Xenon. Do it for me... Vincent De Tenebris Marcam."
Tenebris's composure finally breaks; a single tear tracks down his pale face. "Alright, Plague Doctor. I hear you." He turns to leave, his boots crunching on the Relic glass, but he stops. He whispers to the wind, "I need to save my people."
Tenebris focuses every ounce of his remaining mana, beginning the forbidden summoning of the Overseer Prime. As the Relic magic circle warps and glows a violent green, the strain takes a brutal toll—Tenebris spurts a mouthful of blood, his body trembling from the massive energy drain.
With a roar that shatters the surrounding ruins, the Overseer Prime emerges. It is a titan among titans—bigger, bulkier, and radiating an aura of ancient, cold intelligence that dwarfs the standard Overseers.
"Overseer... God Founder of the Guardians..." Tenebris gasps, clutching his chest. "Help me stall the Awakened Army while I save the survivors!"
The Overseer Prime looks down at its summoner, its voice a low, eldritch vibration: "As you wish."
The God Founder raises a massive arm toward the sky. In a flash of green particles, it summons an entire celestial host: ranks of Seraphs, Zealots, Wardens, and a legion of standard Overseers. As the summoned army charges into the fog of war, the Overseer Prime begins its slow, deliberate march. Each step rumbles through the foundations of the dimension—a god moving to war.
TO BE CONTINUED
CREDIT SCENE
In a dark, clinical room, the silence is broken by the rhythmic tapping of a finger against glass. A female voice—smooth and sinister—echoes through the lab as she stares into a containment unit.
"Rise and shine, Eradicator. You've been given a new purpose, a new upgrade... and a new name to strike fear into their hearts."
She smiles as the red optics within the tank flare to life.
"ERADICATOR. MARK 1. COMBAT."