In the earliest days of creation, when the first great war broke out between the four races, hatred began to seep into every corner of existence. It did not come suddenly—but spread like a plague. Trust decayed. Morality broke. People killed, betrayed, enslaved, trafficked, and slaughtered without remorse. Acts once deemed unthinkable became common.
And from this swelling storm of darkness—from a universal string of hatred and wickedness never seen before—something terrible was born.
Raegott.
Otherwise known as... Evil.
It was not summoned, nor shaped by hand or spell. It emerged, an immensity beyond mortal comprehension, forged by the collective malice of the four races. Their hatred for one another gave it breath. Their cruelty gave it will. A godlike force made not by love or purpose—but by pain.
As desperation swept the world, a few discovered the existence of this transcendent force. Secret worshippers, heretics cloaked in shadow, offered blood and sacrifice to earn its favor. They did not understand what it was, only that it answered. It gave them strength. Power enough to kill, conquer, and destroy.
But Raegott was no god.
Even the Supreme Beings—those radiant titans above all others—were not true gods, but servants to the one being who was: Origin.
Those who earned Raegott's favor believed themselves blessed.
They were not.
Its power corrupted their very essence. What they called a gift was a seed of doom. When they died, their souls did not pass on. They were devoured—dragged back into the force, as if they had always belonged to it.
Raegott grew stronger.
But then, something unexpected happened.
It grew... curious.
Though it had no heart and no mortal shell, it began to observe its worshippers more closely. It saw something strange, something inconsistent. Even amidst their hatred, there existed moments of something else.
Love.
Even as the races waged a devastating war against each other, they still clung to their kin. Still embraced. Still cried for each other. Died for each other.
This confused Raegott. It found the mortals—these shallow, broken creatures—hypocritical. Disgusting.
Yet it was envious.
What was this thing they shared that it could not feel?
Time passed. Lives crumbled. And Raegott's envy grew.
Until finally, it reached a breaking point.
It no longer wished to watch from beyond. It wanted to know. To feel. To experience.
And so, it descended.
Not as flame or shadow, but as flesh.
A human child—born of a king and a prostitute. A bastard no one would expect.
At birth, it forgot what it was. But deep down, the truth remained. It did not need to pretend. Evil, for it, was as natural as breath.
That child would become a terror spoken of only in whispers.
Grand Emperor Julius.
The Grand Herrscher of The End.
Lord of Apocalypse.
Monarch of Corruption.
Titan War-General.
A being once so powerful, it stood equal to the Supreme Beings themselves. A force so dangerous, its history was erased. Its very existence scrubbed from scripture and memory.
Only a few still know.
And now... that being, that conceptual entity reborn in the body of a weakened child of man, stands once again.
The same force now towered before Xavier.
Behind Julius, a shadowy titan shimmered—his original form echoing through his aura. Its sheer presence warped the space around him. Time stilled. Gravity frayed. Xavier's soul shuddered.
Julius's eye glowed with unfiltered malice. The kind of gaze that stripped away hope. The kind of gaze you might imagine from hell itself. It was as though just seeing it could rip the soul from your body.
He had returned.
"So you must be the new wielder of Excalibur, huh?" a voice cut through the thick miasma that choked the skies and blotted the moon. "A child like you was chosen to succeed the Great Hero, Saint Sebastian?"
Julius stepped forward, his presence smothering the world around him in a creeping, malevolent haze. His pitch-black hair had grown longer, and faint stubble lined his jaw. Even the air recoiled from him.
"I expected my earlier attack to wipe out this pitiful village," he said coldly. "Seems they had the sense to flee."
Xavier, struggling to breathe under the weight of the miasma, could barely lift his head. "Who... are... you...?" he croaked out between labored breaths.
Julius didn't bother answering. His eyes locked onto Excalibur. "It's been a while, Excalibur."
The sacred blade trembled in Xavier's grip, glowing faintly. Not in fear. In worry. Its chosen was paralyzed, soul-shaken.
"Why so cold?" Julius mused, lips curled into a smug smirk. "Still bitter over your previous master's death? You should be glad. He died honorably, alongside comrades worthy of legend."
Excalibur pulsed, silent but defiant.
"I heard he succumbed to the wounds I gave him. Must've been hard, watching him die... not knowing if you'd ever feel the hand of a true hero again."
Then his gaze shifted back to Xavier. "But this? This boy? Your choice baffles me. I never took you for one to lower your standards."
Excalibur responded with a flash of defiant light, not for Julius, but for Xavier. For all of creation. It understood the stakes. Julius, the monster who once cradled existence like a toy, had returned. And Xavier was the last hope.
In an instant, holy light surged from the blade, shielding Xavier in a radiant barrier that pushed back the suffocating miasma.
A ghostly hand appeared within the light. One that belonged to the woman from Xavier's subconscious. She cupped his face gently, her voice a lullaby.
"Calm, master. I am with you. There's nothing to fear."
Xavier's breath steadied. His mind cleared. But then, his gaze dropped.
Haruki.
Dead. His body, split in two. His life extinguished.
Tears welled in Xavier's eyes, but they did not fall. His sorrow twisted into rage as he looked up at Julius.
"Why...? Why did you do this?" he demanded, voice trembling. "He was changing. He didn't deserve this."
Julius frowned, visibly disgusted. "This... thing? You mourn this?"
He stepped on Haruki's corpse. Hard.
"He was filth. A disobedient tool. Once evil, always evil. It's nature. Can't be changed. He betrayed his master. Betrayal deserves only one reward: death."
Xavier gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet, blood dripping, body trembling. Both hands clutched Excalibur.
The sword screamed in his mind: "No, master. Please. We must flee. You will not survive this."
But Xavier didn't budge.
He wouldn't run. Not this time.
Julius raised an eyebrow, amused by the defiance. "You truly are a fool. Brave... but foolish. I don't waste time on insects."
Before Julius could take another step, the sky ripped open.
Alcmena descended like a meteor, his massive dragonic claws ready to rip Julius apart.
In a movement so casual it was almost insulting, Julius raised his pinky finger and blocked the strike. The shockwave split the earth with a deafening roar.
"Ah, Alcmena," Julius said, bored. "You look different. Did you get a makeover?"
"HOW THE HELL ARE YOU ALIVE, YOU BASTARD?!" Alcmena roared, the calmness in his voice shattered. "YOU WERE KILLED BY THE HEROES!"
Julius chuckled. "Oh, Percival. That cunning little rat pulled me out from the Lake of the Damned."
Alcmena staggered back. His ancient heart raced. No one, no one, had power over death itself.
And yet... here stood the nightmare that even gods feared.
"You lie," Alcmena whispered. "That's impossible."
Julius leaned in, his voice low and chilling.
"The Forbidden Dark Rune Spells."
Alcmena froze. Every scale on his body quivered. Those words... they weren't just forbidden. They were eradicated from time itself.
Yet now, they echoed through reality once more.
"If I remember correctly," Julius said, voice laced with mockery, a smirk curling on his lips. "That man, Percival, somehow uncovered the forbidden spells created by the Dark Sorcerer. One in particular—The Dreadful Fare—allowed him to summon my soul from the realm of the dead. Of course, the price... was his own brother's heart."
He chuckled, amused by the horror of it. "Can you believe it? A man so desperate for power, he tore out his own blood's heart. Now that is a tale worthy of being etched into my essence."
Xavier stood frozen, some distance away, his head lowered. He trembled—not just from the realization that Julius, the darkest force in creation, had returned—but that Percival had sacrificed the heart of Jonathan, his father, to make it happen.
Emotion erupted in him. Rage overtook reason.
He lunged at Julius.
Julius didn't so much as glance in his direction. His aura shimmered.
Xavier was struck by an unseen wave of power—slammed into the ground like a fly under a god's hand.
"XAVIER!" Alcmena's voice thundered, alarm tearing into it.
He rushed forward, charging his Starfire Breath, crimson light searing through his open jaws. But Julius merely scoffed.
A pressure exploded from his body.
Alcmena was thrown back like a leaf caught in a hurricane.
Julius lifted a finger. A pulse of invisible force slashed through the air—severing Alcmena's right hand with precise brutality.
"You've become feeble, Dragon King," Julius sneered, eyes filled with disdain. "I remember the day I fought your brother, Azraelon. You came rushing in to save him—foolishly noble. I fought the both of you, all at once. That battle... was mesmerizing. A true clash of titans."
Another invisible slice tore across Alcmena's chest.
"You lost that battle. So what makes you think this fragile version of yourself stands a chance now?"
With a roar of defiance, Alcmena unleashed his Starfire Breath—celestial flames meant to burn stars themselves. But the flames curled harmlessly around Julius, dissipating in the air.
A feint.
Alcmena darted to Xavier and scooped him up. "We must flee—now!"
"No!" Xavier snapped. "He killed Haruki! I won't run!"
"Are you out of your mind?!" Alcmena shouted. "You're not ready! Not for him! Even Excalibur knows that!"
But Xavier wouldn't hear it.
Vector energy ignited within his limbs.
He burst forward, cutting through the dying heat of Starfire.
Excalibur surged with tremendous swirling vortexes of compressed wind.
"Stasis Oblivion!"
A mighty slash—meant to shred all that came into contact.
Julius raised two fingers.
Caught it.
Didn't even look at him.
The force of the blow vanished like dust in the wind.
"You've lost your edge, Excalibur," Julius muttered with bitter nostalgia. "You once pierced gods and carved through space. And now? You can't even scratch the echo of a fallen god."
He turned, eyes narrowing on Xavier.
"You wield that ethereal instrument like a child with a toy. A sacred weapon of light, one with a will of its own... reduced to a butcher's cleaver in your hands."
His voice dripped with contempt. "And this... this is who's supposed to succeed Saint Sebastian? A hero I respected? This brat can't even access your full strength. You have to suppress yourself for him to even bear your weight".
"I doubt he'll ever awaken his Soul Regalia".
"You chose wrong, Excalibur. I'm disappointed."
Excalibur remained still. No pulse. No protest.
Julius raised his hand—ready to kill Xavier right there and then.
"Astral Sovereignty: Gravitational Downfall!"
The heavens bent.
Gravity crashed upon Julius like a god's curse.
Alcmena seized Xavier and shot into the skies.
But Julius broke the weight like paper. His aura cracked reality.
Invisible slashes erupted upward—too fast, too many to count.
Alcmena curled around Xavier, shielding him.
Each blade tore through flesh.
Pain ignited in waves.
He endured.
"MASTER!" Xavier screamed in terror.
Just as another invisible slash came whistling toward them, Xavier's cosmic eyes flared with radiant light. The searing line of force grazed Alcmena's left wing, slicing through it with a hiss of scorched air.
"I can see them," Xavier murmured, eyes wide, voice trembling.
"What?!" Alcmena groaned, his body wracked with pain. "What are you talking about, Xavier?!"
"They're not blades... they're strings, master," Xavier said again, breath shallow. "So thin... they're almost not there. Invisible threads—woven through the gaps in the very air."
Alcmena's heart pounded. "How do you know this?!"
"My eyes—my cosmic eyes. Somehow... I can see their paths."
One of the threads came whipping toward him.
Xavier tore free from Alcmena's grip and, guided by instinct and the eerie precision of his vision, struck at the midpoint of the incoming string.
Slash.
It split in two.
No other blade could have done it—but Excalibur wasn't just any weapon.
"Oh ho..." Julius's voice echoed from the storm of darkness behind them, amused. "You can actually see them? My invisible string slashes? Not entirely useless, after all."
Then his tone dropped, icy and final. "But your luck has run out."
Alcmena's instincts screamed.
He activated Oblivion Grip, snatching Xavier back into his arm. In a blur of motion, he burst into the upper sky.
But Julius let them go.
He stood in place, calm and centered. His eyes shut.
He brought his hands together—then apart.
Threads materialized at the edges of space. Then more. Each wave of motion summoned more threads—flashes of motion so fast that even light lagged behind.
The invisible strings began to turn crimson, glowing faintly.
Heat rippled.
They weren't invisible anymore.
They burned with a radiance so intense the void shimmered. The strings ignited, curling with a flame that warped the sky. It was a heat that mocked the sun's core, that threatened to rip through the heavens above.
Julius inhaled deeply.
"I do hope the head start I gave you will allow you to survive what comes next."
His eyes opened—pits of black fire.
"Threads of Reality..."
"Scorching Fate Severance."
A brilliant explosion of light erupted from Julius as he unleashed the attack.
The strings hurled upward like scorching tendrils of fate, stretching across miles in a flash. They pierced the heavens, racing toward the fleeing figures of Alcmena and Xavier.
Sensing the doom closing in, Alcmena wrapped himself fully around Xavier—wings, arms, and aura reinforcing every inch of him.
He braced for annihilation.
BOOM.
The sky lit up like a second sun.
Night turned to day.
Flames engulfed the heavens.
Julius turned his back.
He was already bored.
"I came sensing Excalibur's Sacred Art—Hero's Residual. The same power Saint Sebastian once used... even against me."
His eyes narrowed. "And I arrive... only to find disappointment. What a disgrace."
He gazed off into the burning horizon, hands deep in his pockets.
Percival... what game are you playing?
"I don't know what brought you here, or what chaos you intend to unleash..."
"But my boredom only grows."
His tone dropped to a whisper—sharp as a blade:
"You'd better keep your end of the bargain. Or I'll kill you myself... and reduce your entire kingdom to ashes."
"All to feed...by starved boredom".