After the dust of Elena's soul vanished, Silus stood in the silent ruins of the Demon Castle. He felt it—a thousand cold eyes watching him from above. He looked up, his gaze piercing through the clouds.
"I know you're watching," he whispered, his voice carrying through the dimensions. "It's your turn now."
With a thunderous boom, Silus leaped. He bypassed the atmosphere in seconds, soaring into the cold vacuum of space. He didn't need air; the Void was all he needed. He gripped Death and slashed the fabric of reality itself, tearing a jagged hole in time and space. He stepped through the rift and found himself standing before the Grand Gates of Aether—a white diamond wall so bright it would blind a mortal in seconds.
Silus stood before the gate and knocked twice, a polite gesture from a man who had already decided on murder. The gates didn't budge. He waited a beat, then a dark smirk crossed his face. "Fine. Have it your way."
He drew Death and delivered a single, vertical strike. The "Unbreakable" gates didn't just open; they disintegrated into a billion shards of glass.
Stepping into the golden light, Silus was met with a sea of Seraphim Warriors. Before he could take a step, a holy arrow hissed through the air. Silus caught it mid-flight without looking, snapped it in two, and tossed the pieces into the dirt. "Who wants to be first?"
He looked at his blade. "Let's let fate decide," he muttered. He tossed the heavy sword into the air. "If it lands on the hilt, I'll end this quickly. If it lands on the tip, I'll play with you a little."
The sword spun, glinting under the holy sun, and slammed into the ground—point first.
"Unlucky for you," Silus whispered.
He moved like a shadow in a room full of candles. One by one, the Seraphim fell, not even realizing they were dead until their wings hit the floor. Finally, the Archangel of Light stepped forward, his flaming sword radiating heat. "Halt, Sinner! You are a demon on holy ground! Begone, or—"
He never finished. In a blur of black motion, Silus was already behind him. SHINK. The Archangel fell into pieces before his own fire could even singe Silus's cloak.
Silus kicked open the massive doors to the Temple of Eternity. Inside, three towering figures sat on thrones that seemed to hold up the sky.
"And who are these three musketeers?" Silus asked, his voice echoing in the vast hall.
Vathar, the God of War, rose from his throne, his armor glowing like a supernova. "How dare you speak to us in that tone, mortal! I gave the demons the power to break you—I will finish the job myself!"
Beside him, Themis, the Goddess of Justice, glared down. "Silence." She raised a hand, and golden chains manifested from the air, coiling around Silus like vipers. "You are a soul of infinite sin. By the law of the Heavens, you are forfeit."
Finally, Moirai, the God of Fate, opened a massive, glowing book. His voice was like grinding stone. "It is written, Silus. Your life ends here. Fate cannot be changed."
Silus began to laugh—a deep, terrifying sound. With a simple flick of his wrist, the "unbreakable" golden chains shattered like cheap plastic. Simultaneously, the Book of Fate in Moirai's hands burst into black flames.
"How... how is this possible?" Moirai stammered, dropping the burning book. "Your death was certain!"
"I don't follow the script," Silus said, his eyes glowing with the pitch-black hunger of the Void. "I write the ending. And in my version, you all die today. The only question is... who gets to die first?"