A thunderous roar burst from the Spider of Chaos, shaking the void like a storm of divine fury.
The sound alone warped space — freezing the flow of energy, silencing the very breath of existence.
Ripples of black light tore through the empty realm, while cracks of pure distortion shimmered across the sky.
Then, with the weight of a collapsing world, one of its colossal legs slammed down.
The impact was apocalyptic — the blow pierced nearly a kilometer into the void-ground below, tearing open a wound in reality itself.
A surge of dark mist and purple lightning exploded upward, bending the horizon into waves of shadow.
Far away, two figures stood — calm amid chaos.
Sentrie watched the battle unfold with a keen, almost childlike curiosity.
His golden eyes reflected the chaos before him, yet there was no fear — only fascination.
"So much power…" he murmured with a quiet smile.
"This could be fun. Should I join in?"
His voice carried amusement, but his gaze burned with a sharp, dangerous light.
Beside him, The Creator stood in silence, hands folded behind his back, his presence serene and unshaken.
He watched Lensin — the lone warrior standing against the Spider — with careful precision, as though studying an experiment.
Inside, he chuckled softly.
"Show me… what you're capable of."
As the Spider of Chaos lifted its leg, it froze in confusion.
Lensin was gone.
The creature's countless eyes widened.
It turned its head, scanning in every direction — each movement violent enough to split the air and summon a hurricane of shadow.
Raging winds spiraled across the void, scattering debris of broken dimensions like dust.
Then… something appeared above.
A glow — dark yet radiant — emerged in the heavens.
From within that glow, a massive blade materialized, forged from living shadow and condensed destruction.
Its size dwarfed mountains.
Its presence silenced reality.
The blade fell.
A sound like the end of the world split the air — a single strike that could erase a star system.
The Spider twisted at the last instant, barely avoiding annihilation.
Still, the shockwave shattered the battlefield — space cracked and folded upon itself, swallowing light and sound.
The once-empty realm was no longer stable.
The ground trembled, oceans of darkness churned, and rivers of chaotic energy spilled into the air.
The sky fractured like glass, bleeding streaks of silver, violet, and void-black.
The Spider of Chaos screeched — its movements accelerating until it blurred into pure light.
In an instant, it vanished from sight.
A heartbeat later, it reappeared, closing in on Sentrie and The Creator with terrifying speed.
Sentrie's eyes widened slightly.
"It's coming!" he shouted.
The air screamed.
The tip of the Spider's massive leg descended like a black meteor, aimed straight at Sentrie.
The pressure alone could crush entire worlds — and yet, instead of panic, a grin curved across his lips.
There was excitement in his eyes — the thrill of a challenge.
Then, as the leg struck down, a burst of white light erupted — brilliant, divine, and absolute.
The explosion tore through the Spider's body, blood splattering across the shattered land.
The sound of the blast echoed endlessly, as if the void itself was screaming.
When the storm settled, Sentrie sat calmly in the midst of a crimson sea — smiling.
"Thanks," he said softly, his gaze lifting.
"You came just in time, Creator."
Before him stood a figure wielding two guns — The Creator.
Both weapons resembled shotguns, yet they were unlike any creation of mortal or divine origin. Their design shimmered with an ethereal white and pale gold hue, glowing faintly like dawn breaking through endless night. Each barrel radiated a brilliance that seemed capable of cleansing darkness itself.
The Creator aimed both guns at the mutilated leg of the Spider of Chaos.
His face bore no eyes, no nose — only a grin, curved in a way that was neither kind nor cruel, but something that existed beyond meaning. When he spoke, his voice vibrated through reality like a ripple across the still surface of time.
"Glad to help," he said softly.
Then came the scream.
The Spider of Chaos howled in agony, a sound that warped dimensions and froze the stars themselves.
Its severed leg, still writhing, emitted a black ichor that burned the void beneath it, each drop dissolving what little substance this realm still possessed. Even the emptiness seemed to flee from the corruption.
From afar, a blade of shadow moved — The Sword of Darkness, following the spider like a living curse.
Within its countless eyes, the Spider saw it coming and knew — Lensin.
It turned violently, attempting to escape the approaching power, but collided with something vast. The impact echoed through existence. The void trembled. Light itself recoiled.
Then it saw it.
A hand — massive, demonic, rotting.
Its surface was charred black and purple, veins glowing faintly with the decay of collapsed stars.
Each claw was the size of a constellation, dripping with a power that could crush galaxies like grains of dust. The air around it bent and broke, screaming under the weight of its existence.
The Spider of Chaos froze, its eyes wide with primal terror.
"That… that cannot be—"
But before it could finish the thought, the hand moved.
The motion was slow, almost graceful — yet it tore through spacetime like paper.
Reality convulsed as the colossal hand reached out, its shadow blanketing entire dimensions.
The Spider struggled to move, but the fear that consumed it rendered even its monstrous body powerless. And then—
CRACK.
The demonic hand clenched.
Bones shattered. Chitin splintered. Blood — thick and black — gushed in torrents, staining the fabric of the void.
Its roar turned into a shriek of pure despair, echoing across the cosmos like the death cry of a god.
The Spider thrashed, but the hand only tightened its grip. Every movement unleashed shockwaves that collapsed entire layers of reality. The once-boundless battlefield drowned in a sea of corrupted blood.
And in that agony, its eyes — countless, trembling — filled with emotion.
Despair. Rage. Hatred.
It was not merely dying; it was being erased.
The weight of the hand crushed not only its body, but its existence.
It began to fade — not from sight, but from memory itself.
The cosmos would soon forget that it had ever lived.
Then, from above that demonic hand, a lone figure stepped forward.
Cloaked in black, calm amid chaos, Lensin descended.
His boots touched the blood-soaked void without a sound.
Around him, fragments of broken dimensions swirled like dust caught in a fading light.
In his hand — The Sword of Darkness — glowed faintly, its edge lined with the shimmer of dying stars.
He walked slowly, each step resonating with the pulse of unspoken judgment.
"It ends here," Lensin murmured.
The Spider of Chaos writhed, every eye fixated on him.
Its hatred burned brighter than suns, but the fear within it was greater still.
Lensin raised his sword. The air trembled.
The aura surrounding him was neither light nor dark — it was the silence between both, the void that exists before creation and after ruin.
The moment froze.
Then he struck.
The blade plunged deep into the core of the Spider of Chaos.
There was no sound — only a pulse of absolute destruction.
A blinding light exploded outward, swallowing everything.
The Spider screamed, and that scream became the very roar of existence unraveling. Time fractured. Space ignited.
The storm of annihilation consumed stars, constellations, and even memory itself.
When it was over, silence reigned.
The light faded, leaving only Lensin — standing alone amid endless white-gray haze.
The Sword of Darkness hung loosely in his hand, now devoid of its former brilliance.
His eyes were blank, emotionless, empty as the void around him.
He exhaled quietly.
"It's finally over," he whispered.
His voice carried through the stillness, a requiem for the fallen.
Then — faint footsteps echoed through the desolation.
Lensin lifted his gaze.
Two figures approached through the dust and dim glow — Sentrie and The Creator.
Sentrie's cloak shimmered faintly with gold as it caught the fading mist of bloodlight. His expression was calm, but his eyes burned with quiet intensity.
Beside him, The Creator walked with his guns still drawn, the faint grin never leaving his faceless visage.
They stopped before Lensin. None spoke for a long time.
Only the hum of decaying energy filled the silence between them.
Lensin looked at them both — then lowered his sword to his side.
There was no triumph in his eyes. No satisfaction. Only a quiet knowing — that this battle, for all its devastation, was not the end.
It was merely the doorway to something beyond comprehension.
Above them, what remained of the battlefield twisted and shimmered. The fragments of shattered dimensions began to collapse inward, drawn toward a single unseen point. The blood of the Spider of Chaos evaporated, becoming mist, then memory
A whisper ran through the air — soft, untraceable.
It was as though the void itself sighed in relief… or in warning.
The Creator tilted his head slightly, his grin widening just enough to suggest amusement.
Sentrie's eyes flickered with golden light, reflecting a vision that neither of the others could see — a storm, gathering at the edge of eternity.
Lensin turned his gaze upward, toward the fading light.
For a moment, his reflection appeared not as a man, but as a shadow within the light — something both real and unreal, as though the void itself recognized him.
Then the light vanished.
And all that remained… was stillness.
The three figures stood in that silence, surrounded by the remains of a battle too vast for history to remember.
No words were spoken. None were needed.
For in that silence, every one of them knew —
The death of the Spider of Chaos was not the end of an era.
It was the awakening of something far greater.