The throne room of Apokolips was not a place of regal beauty. Smooth stone walls barely lit by the ambient light from the fire pit that was directly behind the throne room. The lava pit was the only interesting part of the room, and although it was the single source of light, it also generated immense heat. Someone not used to the climate of Apokolips would be hard-pressed to endure the hot temperature inside. Sometimes ash and sparks would jump out of the pit and ride the air flows that were ascending from the pit to the ceiling. In the other parts of the room, the air itself seemed thinner; most of it was consumed by the ever-hungry fiery maw of the lava pit.
A single piece of furniture faced the massive doors, an uncomfortable metallic throne took the center of the room, the single focal point of an enormous, otherwise vacant space. A person was sitting at the black throne, arms on the armrests, neck and shoulders unnaturally straight. It was Darkseid. The newly coronated Emperor.
His name would be carved into the annals of the Apokolips Empire, into the history of the universe, accompanied in the silence of his scared loyal subjects and by cries of doom of his fallen enemies. He would build an eternal legacy for himself and his family. His future family.
He had already begun the process of eliminating names, links and mentions of deeds of his mother and his mother from the Royal library. It was extremely petty on his part, but he did not care. He wanted his parents to be erased from history. They held no place in his path to glory, only a minor obstacle on his ascension to the throne; so they did not deserve to be immortalised in the history of the empire that he would build himself.
The ritual performed by him last night transformed him, somehow made him easier to the eye. Scars on his face and body had been perfectly healed; the planet's ash, fried and deeply rooted in his skin, was gone, leaving his renewed skin smooth and pale. His eyes, previously befallen with illness and eternal tiredness from lack of sleep, were restored to nearly perfect condition; his sight has improved as well. Now he could see great distances, farther and better than he could before. He now had his old dashingly deep eyes of vermilion red as colours came back to them. His old eyes were spent during war and training; they resembled just red slits; now the iris and sclera could be seen clearly.
The ritual that Darkseid had used last night gave him back the youth that he had sacrificed for power while slaving away at the training yard and at war campaigns. Nothing like that happened in the original timeline when Darkseid had claimed Omega Realm for himself. During this ritual, he used techniques and runes he had peered at from the other universes; in particular, some of the magics from a place called Arda were helpful. The dark lord Sauron's magic was exceptionally fascinating.
There was also a matter of the item that he summoned from one of the other worlds. It was called Hogyoku, a small marble of almost absolute power. It was a catalyst for evolution, capable of making transformations happen by materialising deep desires. Its function was to manifest the desires of the soul of its wielder.
And the changes didn't stop just at his appearance. Somehow, he felt stronger, far more than he was supposed to. And the connection to the Omega Realm was much stronger than in the original timeline; he felt like he had it in the palm of his hand. His grasp on the powers of it felt deeper, like he was intertwined with it.
His thoughts moved differently. His mind was clearer; the everlasting rage that veiled his psyche lifted. Even his youth came back to him. After the ritual, something stirred deep inside of him, a newfound will and strife. Was it what people called inspiration?
He was still himself… but not entirely. The dark dimension he claimed as his own gave him much more than it should have. And now he even bore its mark, the omega symbol encrusted into his chiselled chest. It coiled in his skin, in this blood and in his bones. It whispered promises of power right into his heart.
Perhaps, his original powers, his Omega Beams and the Omega Effect were not all that the Omega Realm could offer him. Perhaps his original self was too lazy, too complacent, too full of himself to study the realm and its power to their full extent.
A multitude of footsteps echoed beyond the doors. They were measured, heavy and somewhat timid. Furies, he guessed. Their army training would make their resolve strong enough to come near him despite their fears, even after the killing rampage he went on the night before, even after the fire that he started. The fire claimed not only his mother's corpse but also half of the royal palace with it.
Aurelie entered first. Her dark brown hair was put into a ponytail, flowing out of a silver-colored helmet. Her similarly colored armor was very light; it protected only her chest, stomach and hips, while legs and arms were left open. As a warrior focused on swift and deadly strikes, she would require freedom of movement to be effective during the fights.
Behind her, only slightly taller than Aurelie, was Barda. Her battle armor bore a golden tint and was heavier. Barda usually stayed in close combat for a prolonged time, so she needed better protection. Although freedom of movement was only slightly affected, she would still need it to be effective.
And rounding out the trio was Tina, previously mockingly called petite. The only place on her body that was free of armor was her face. Her horns that were sticking out of the helmet made her look like a ram that was about to charge into the fray of the battle. She was built like a tank meant to be right in the center of the enemy, and her armor was perfectly made for that.
This trio was chosen by Darkseid himself from hundreds of the Orphanage students. They were meant to be his elite, to be his most trusted warriors.
Surprisingly, there was another with them. His brother, who walked straight to Darkseid's throne, his golden helmet in hand, eyes bloodshot but full of resolve. Had Darkseid not known his brother well enough, he would have been questioning Drax's intentions. The brave face that his brother was putting up was a new sight to see. Perhaps, now that the uncertainty of the inheritance was gone, Drax's worries were gone as well.
Their deal was clear and short. One would rule. One would reign with him or not at all. It was not brotherhood that held them together now. The two of them never felt the supposedly tight ties of brotherhood in their lives. But their bargain was necessity, a business. They would make this Empire better. Together.
"The Empire is yours," Drax said in a low but confident tone. "The Elite has been notified; anyone opposing the change was disposed of. There was some unexpected opposition to your rule. Apparently, our mother had some lovers, despite all her… faults.:
Drax paused dramatically, as if he didn't believe that their mother could have a lover. Who in their right mind would love that woman? Drax then continued his report.
"The army is yours to master and command. What are your plans for the war with New Genesis?"
Darkseid didn't respond immediately. The war with New Genesis seemed like an endless struggle between two equal forces. It was inevitable that the two civilisations would meet on a battlefield again. There was no chance that Izaya would sit around and wait while Apokolips was conquering other star systems.
He still needed to think about how exactly he would deal with the light side of the New Gods. But there was one thing that he was sure of: he needed to take on a different approach from the original timeline. He was unsuccessful in his campaign against New Genesis. Fifty years later, the two Empires would still be locked in their eternal struggle.
He replied to Drax in a surprisingly quiet and calm voice:
"We will try diplomacy first. Prepare a diplomatic visit to the New Genesis. I will be going there myself. Me and my Furies."
The following silence was long and heavy. The reputation that Darkseid gathered was that of a battle-hungry maniac. No one expected him to engage in diplomatic relations. Certainly not his brother, and certainly not after he rose to the throne of Apokolips through murder and arson.
"Please see to the transport being organised and notify New Genesis of my arrival, Drax. Make sure that they know of my arrival and that I'm coming peacefully." Darkseid hated to rely on his brother to carry out such simple matters. A planetary governor shouldn't do such a simple job. He was in desperate need of good aid.
"And try to find me a personal assistant, please", the new ruler of Apokolips gave out his last order before getting up from the throne and leaving the palace. He still had one unfinished errand that he needed to see done before his trip to New Genesis.