Volmeryn's throne room was vast and dark. The walls were covered with ancient symbols that shimmered faintly in the light. Volmeryn stood in the center, calm and imposing. His golden eyes observed all those around him.
To his right, Nethrah watched intently, silent. To his left, Sepharon seemed lost in thought. Lysandros, on the other hand, wore a faint, mocking smile. Carlos, the leader of the demons, leaned against a pillar, confident. Darius, the duke of the vampires, remained in the background, silent and cold.
Lyara, leader of the elves, watched the scene calmly and wisely. And before them, the archangels: Metatron, Raphael, Gabriel, and Michael. Metatron, his light intense, commanding respect.
Volmeryn spoke.
"Metatron, I have a mission for you. A demon god named Solarius Ombrae may threaten our world. His power is almost equal to mine. We must stop him before he becomes dangerous."
Metatron smiled, confident.
"A demon god? Are you sure I should go? This might be too easy for me."
Carlos sneered. "Too easy, huh? He's funny, our archangel."
Lyara spoke calmly.
"You're wrong, Metatron. Solarius is no ordinary enemy. He's not just powerful. He is... stability itself. What you're up against isn't just a demon god, it's something that sustains the world. "
Metatron shrugged.
"It doesn't matter. Light can do anything. Even that."
Volmeryn looked at him seriously.
"You don't understand yet. Solarius doesn't follow normal rules. He's in dimensions we can't see. His immortality isn't a gift, it's a constant. To touch him is to upset the balance of the world."
Sepharon murmured worriedly, "What if we fail? What if this demon god is too strong?"
"Then... everything could fall," Volmeryn replied simply.
Metatron remained confident.
"It doesn't matter. I'll bring him down."
Raphael smiled, a little mockingly.
"Just make sure you come back in one piece. Otherwise, it'll be hard to explain to the Council."
"When I come back, you'll see that even stability can fall," Metatron replied.
Lyara shook her head slightly.
"And if you fail, it won't just be you who falls. It will be everything that exists."
Volmeryn stood up.
"Go, Metatron. But remember: you're not fighting an enemy. You're challenging the world order."
Metatron took a deep breath, then disappeared in a burst of light. The room fell silent. Everyone knew this fight wouldn't be easy. And if Metatron failed… reality itself could be shattered.
The Volmeryn council chamber was eerily silent. All eyes were on the spot where Metatron had disappeared. The light that had enveloped it had dissipated, but the air seemed thick with a heavy tension.
Carlos crossed his arms and let out a short, mocking laugh.
"Let's see…" he said, his predatory face betraying his excitement.
"Metatron really thinks he can defeat Solarius? How naive."
Darius slowly turned his head, his dark eyes analyzing every detail.
"Even an archangel can be surprised here," he murmured calmly.
"Solarus is no ordinary enemy."
Lyara remained silent, her eyes fixed on the horizon as if she could already see the outcome of the battle.
"If Metatron fails…" she said finally, "it won't be just him. The whole kingdom could pay the price.Solarius is not just a demon god, he embodies the very balance of primordial forces."
Volmeryn stood motionless, observing the scene. He knew this battle would be a difficult lesson, for Metatron and for all who served him.
Metatron's journey to Solarius's realm had seemed to last an eternity. Before him stretched a landscape ravaged by time and war. The air was charged with an invisible but oppressive energy. A dry wind carried a metallic scent, and the ground vibrated slightly beneath his feet, as if the realm itself were breathing around him.
In the center of a vast plain surrounded by dark mountains, Metatron stopped and watched. Soon, a gigantic figure appeared on the horizon. Solarius stood there, immense, almost unreal. Metatron raised a hand, and pure light burst from his fingers, bright like a newborn star.
"Solarium," he said in a firm but vibrant voice, "I am Metatron, Archangel of Heaven. I come in peace... but I am ready to fight if necessary."
Solarius slowly bowed his head. "Metatron..." he whispered, his deep voice echoing. "You are an anomaly in time and space. But you are only a passerby... a shadow among shadows."
Each word struck Metatron like a direct blow to the soul. "I am not a shadow," the archangel replied, clenching his fists.
"I am the light that precedes all. And you… you will disappear."
Solarius gave a slow, cold smile. "Your light?" he said.
"You think it's real? I am neither light nor shadow. I am reality. And here, everything you think you know disappears."
At these words, the air around Metatron rippled. Time itself seemed to bend and twist. The archangel tried to create order in this chaos, but nothing touched Solarius.
Metatron focused all his energy and launched a colossal sphere of light, capable of obliterating everything in its path. But Solarius didn't move. With a simple gesture, the sphere dissolved into nothingness as if it had never existed.
"You see?" Solarius said calmly. "Your light is nothing compared to me. I am the singularity... the beginning and the end of everything."
With a simple flick of his finger, Solarius altered the very essence of Metatron's light. The archangel felt his power waver, a strange darkness invading his thoughts. His wings of light trembled, barely tangible in reality.
Yet Metatron did not relent. He murmured an incantation forgotten for centuries. Time folded around him, and his light was reborn in a blinding blaze. Solarius, impassive, conjured a dark halo around himself, the Halo of Eclipse, which absorbed every attack and strengthened his strength.
The more Metatron struck, the more powerful Solarius became. To fight not only Solarius, but the universe itself.
The fight was only just beginning. But both knew it would define more than just their fates...
The battle between Metatron and Solarius tore through the space around them. Light and shadow swirled in merciless chaos.
The arena was no longer a physical place: it was a field of forces, thoughts, and concepts, where every gesture shattered the rules of the universe. Metatron barely moved forward. His resplendent wings were dulled, burning with the energy they had exerted.
His breath was short, his muscles screamed with fatigue, and every impact of Solarius's energy made him stagger. Yet he could not retreat. He was the light, truth incarnate.