the last battle god

Kael awoke to silence. Not the peaceful, comforting kind, but a suffocating void where even the sound of his breathing seemed muted. He lay on cold, cracked ground, his body aching as though it had been torn apart and stitched back together.

The air around him was thick and oppressive, carrying the faint scent of sulfur. Above him stretched a sky of eternal night, illuminated by streaks of red lightning that cracked across the darkness like jagged scars.

He sat up slowly, his head spinning. The ground beneath him was blackened and scorched, as if the very earth had been burned in rage. Strange shapes moved in the distance, their forms too twisted and fluid to be human.

"Where… am I?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"You are in the Abyss," a voice replied, low and chilling.

Kael scrambled to his feet, his heart racing. The voice didn't seem to come from any direction—it was everywhere, echoing around him like a sinister wind.

Out of the shadows, a figure emerged. At first glance, it looked human, but as it stepped closer, Kael saw the truth. Its body shifted constantly, flickering between forms—a towering man with molten gold eyes, a serpentine beast wreathed in fire, a mass of writhing shadows.

"Who—what are you?" Kael demanded, backing away.

"I am Azrek, Keeper of the Abyss," the figure said, its voice smooth and resonant. "And you, boy, are far from home."

Kael's fists clenched, his fear giving way to anger. "Send me back."

Azrek tilted his head, his golden eyes narrowing. "Back? To what? A town that wants you dead? A world that despises your very existence?"

Kael flinched but stood his ground. "I don't care what they think. They killed my parents. They took everything from me."

"And yet, here you stand," Azrek said, his tone laced with mockery. "Alive. Marked. Chosen."

"Chosen for what?" Kael snapped.

Azrek's form shifted again, his silhouette towering over Kael. "You bear the mark of the Infernal King, the one destined to rule this realm and wield its power. You are no ordinary mortal, boy. You are the heir to the throne of Hell."

Kael's hand instinctively went to his chest, where the spiraling black mark pulsed faintly. The thought of being connected to this place, to this… thing, made his stomach churn.

"I don't want your throne," Kael said through gritted teeth. "I just want revenge."

Azrek chuckled, a low, menacing sound that seemed to vibrate through the ground. "Revenge. Such a mortal concept. But if vengeance is what you seek, you will need power. And power…" He gestured to the desolate landscape around them. "Power comes at a cost."

Kael hesitated, his mind racing. He thought of his father's stern face, his mother's warm embrace. He thought of the hatred in the eyes of the mob, the preacher's cold smile as he watched his family burn.

"What do I have to do?"

Azrek grinned, his golden eyes gleaming. "The Abyss is not simply a place. It is a crucible. A proving ground. If you wish to claim its power, you must conquer it."

Kael frowned. "Conquer… Hell?"

Azrek spread his arms, his form flickering with fiery tendrils. "The Infernal Throne is not simply handed over. It must be earned. You will face trials, battles, horrors that will break you if you are not strong enough. But if you succeed…" He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You will become the most powerful being in existence."

Kael's jaw tightened. Every instinct in him screamed to run, to escape this nightmare and return to the world he knew. But there was nothing for him there. His parents were gone. The townsfolk would never stop hunting him.

If he wanted justice—if he wanted vengeance—this was his only path.

"Where do I start?" he asked, his voice steady.

Azrek smiled, a wicked curve of his shifting lips. "Good. Follow me, child of shadow. Your destiny awaits."

---

Azrek led him across the barren landscape, the jagged ground cutting into Kael's bare feet. The sky above seemed alive, its red lightning flickering in rhythm with the pounding of his heart.

They approached a massive gate that loomed on the horizon, its surface etched with symbols that seemed to writhe and twist when Kael looked at them. Two monstrous figures guarded the entrance, their hulking bodies covered in blackened armor.

"Who are they?" Kael asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hell's Wardens," Azrek replied. "They guard the first gate, and they will test your worth."

Kael swallowed hard. The Wardens' eyes glowed like molten iron, their faces obscured by horned helmets. They stood motionless, but their presence radiated raw power.

Azrek stopped a few paces from the gate and turned to Kael. "This is where we part ways, for now. The path ahead is yours alone."

Kael looked up at the towering gate, then back at Azrek. "What if I fail?"

Azrek's smile was cold and unyielding. "Then you will die, and your soul will become one with the Abyss."

Kael's fists clenched. He wasn't ready to die—not yet. Not until he made them pay.

"Good luck, child of shadow," Azrek said, his form dissolving into smoke.

Kael took a deep breath and stepped forward. As he approached the gate, the Wardens turned to face him, their movements slow and deliberate.

"Who dares approach the Gate of the First Trial?" one of them rumbled, his voice like the grinding of stones.

"I do," Kael said, forcing the tremor out of his voice.

The other Warden tilted his head, as if studying him. "You are untested. Unworthy. Why should you be allowed to pass?"

Kael met their gaze, his fear buried beneath a growing flame of determination. "Because I will not stop until I've destroyed everyone who took my family from me. If that makes me unworthy, then so be it. I'll prove myself."

The Wardens exchanged a glance, then stepped aside, the massive gate creaking open.

"Enter, child of shadow," the first Warden said. "But know this: the Abyss spares no one."

Kael stepped through the gate, his heart pounding. The path ahead was dark and uncertain, but one thing was clear: he would not turn back.

He had chosen his destiny, and there was no escape now.