C#4: Prologue-IV — The One Who Watches
[Leviathan — Void POV]
The void was silent.
Not empty—but silent.
Within it, something stirred.
No shape.
No fixed form.
No beginning or end.
The being humans called Leviathan observed the battlefield through countless unseen perspectives. For centuries, it had worn many forms—storms, shadows, hunger itself.
But for this age…
It preferred the shape of an Abyssal Serpent.
Vast. Endless. Coiling through nothingness.
That was why mortals gave it a name.
Leviathan.
---
Its gaze—if it could be called that—rested on the world below.
On the burning sky.
On the struggling guardians.
On humanity clawing for survival.
And finally—
On the Demon King.
A faint curve formed within the void.
A predator's smile.
So… you hesitate, it thought.
Good
---
[Battlefield]
Something was wrong.
The Demon King stood perfectly still before the Golden Dragon.
No aura flared.
No spell formed.
No movement.
The chaos below continued, but here—
Silence.
---
"Your Majesty!" a demon general screamed from below.
"The army is collapsing!"
"Give the order to retreat!"
Bahamut did not answer.
His gaze was empty. Focused inward.
---
Humans whispered.
"Is he afraid?"
"Did… did we win?"
Some guardians allowed themselves hope.
But the Golden Dragon's instincts screamed.
The Guardian Pegasus felt it too.
This was not fear.
This was preparation.
Something ancient.
Something forbidden.
Something that violated the laws carved into existence itself.
---
Bahamut exhaled slowly.
Then spoke.
His voice carried across the battlefield—calm, steady, terrifying.
"I am Bahamut," he said.
"Demon King. Sovereign of the Abyss."
He raised one clawed hand.
"And I offer half of my soul."
The sky darkened.
"To become the vessel."
"To become the body."
"For my lord."
---
Shock rippled outward.
Humans fell to their knees, begging.
Guardians froze mid-motion.
Even the Phoenix faltered.
Only the Pegasus watched—silent, unreadable.
---
The Golden Dragon roared, flames bursting from its jaws.
"You absolute fool!"
"You don't even understand what you're inviting!"
Bahamut smiled faintly.
"Oh, I understand perfectly."
The ground cracked beneath him.
"If I cannot claim this world…"
"…then no one will."
---
Before the Dragon could strike—
It happened.
---
Bahamut's body collapsed inward.
Then exploded outward.
A shockwave tore through the sky.
Golden scales cracked.
The Dragon was thrown back, blood spilling from his maw.
Dark energy flooded the battlefield.
Bahamut screamed—not in pain—
But in ecstasy.
---
His body began to change.
Bones stretched.
Flesh twisted.
Scales formed—pitch black, layered like armor.
His form grew, coiling, elongating.
A serpent.
A dragon.
Something between.
Something wrong.
---
The aura settled.
The new being lifted its head.
When it spoke, the voice was deep—layered—two voices speaking as one.
"This power…"
"…is intoxicating."
A wide, gleeful smile split its face.
---
The Golden Dragon stared.
Disbelief first.
Then rage.
"You sacrificed your soul," the Dragon growled.
"You've doomed everything."
The Host laughed.
"My soul was insignificant."
Abyssal energy surged.
"Now come."
It spread its wings.
"Let us continue."
---
They clashed.
This time—
The Dragon felt it immediately.
Each strike met resistance.
Each flame was devoured, not deflected.
Blow after blow, the Host adapted.
Learned.
Evolved.
---
Below, demon generals watched in horror and awe.
"This is beyond us…"
One by one, they opened rifts.
Retreated.
Dragging the remnants of their forces back to the Demon Realm.
From afar, they watched.
Waiting to see the outcome.
---
The battle escalated.
The sky fractured.
The Dragon bled.
He was being pushed back.
Slowly.
Relentlessly.
---
So this is how it ends…
---
Light tore through the darkness.
---
The Guardian Pegasus descended.
Wings blazing with holy brilliance.
Beside it rode its champion, blade raised, eyes steady.
---
The Host turned.
Looked at them.
And sneered.
"If only you hadn't joined," it murmured.
"If only you didn't exist."
The Pegasus did not answer.
It charged.
---
Dragon.
Pegasus.
Champion.
Together.
The final struggle began.
And the world trembled in fear of what would remain.
---