Power reached its limit. Behind Nyx, the majestic forms of two colossal gods — one gold, one crimson — manifested simultaneously. Beneath the stunned gazes of Gork and Mork, Nyx, bearing the dual blessings of the Emperor and Khorne, step by step advanced against the WAAAGH! energy gathered from hundreds of millions of Ork Boyz.
"Nyx! YOU CAN'T GET CLOSE TO US!"
This was the Ork Divine Realm — the absolute home domain of Gork and Mork. Yet Nyx sought to achieve the impossible before every greenskin present.
In the stands, some Ork Boyz had already stretched their eyes wide, jaws slack, crying out involuntarily: "...'E... 'OW'S 'E STILL MOVIN'?! PUSHIN' BACK DA WAAAGH! ENERGY?!"
"IMPOSSIBLE?! I'Z GONNA KRUMP YA WIV FISTS — NOT WIV WORDS!"
The twin‑god phantom formed by the condensation of the Ork God‑Slaying Fist had, under Nyx's onslaught, begun to recede and crumble. Though his body bloomed with fissures, unable to withstand the power of two gods, before his 'self' shattered completely, Nyx swore to overthrow Gork and Mork!
Lose face before his own kid? Was he still Nyx?!
"DON'T UNDERESTIMATE ME...!"
One step forward.
"WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?!"
Another step.
"I AM THE SPACE KING!!"
Power surged wildly, erupting with savage momentum! Nyx's arm burst from exceeding its limits — he ignored it completely. Even as he endured the colossal force of two gods, his consciousness gradually blurred.
In this moment, only one thought remained in his mind:
*Fight Gork and Mork. Clear the ring! *
The ring completely disintegrated beneath his feet. Nyx met the twin‑god phantom head‑on and audaciously charged.
Nyx no longer fled. He crushed the shattered space and seething energy behind him into propellant, transforming himself into an absolute lance that would pierce straight through Gork and Mork!
*How is this possible? Can he truly be mightier than Gork and Mork?! *
Gazing upon the golden figure still advancing upon Gork and Mork, the impression of 'invincible Gork and Mork' began to waver in every Ork's heart. This wavering propagated and amplified through the WAAAGH! network connecting all greenskins — and finally reached Gork and Mork themselves.
"WOT... 'OW CAN DIS BE?! 'OW CAN ME BROTHER (MORK/GORK) BE LOSIN' — WAAAGH!!"
The WAAAGH! energy began to burn with renewed ferocity. The twin‑god phantom solidified once more. Nyx's hand was completely torn apart by the blazing energy; all flesh and blood on his forearm was gone, leaving only bone.
But he still did not retreat — his will still blazed. His hegemony would never permit him to yield!
His skeletal hand remained clenched, as before. Nyx's charge gouged a dragon‑like trench across the arena floor. He overcame every obstacle; his form traced a gold‑crimson afterimage through the turbulent torrent of golden and red energies.
Every half‑step Nyx advanced, it seemed he would utterly dissipate the next instant. Yet the trajectory of his fist never wavered!
He used his remaining fist to clash with the twin‑god phantom — shattering and dispersing it! At last, he trampled the final pride of Gork and Mork and stood before them.
"...I... won!"
A white‑bone fist collided with the green giant fists of Gork and Mork — the final shockwave erupted like a nuclear detonation, then swiftly dimmed and dispersed.
Nyx was spent. The Emperor's psychic might and Khorne's blessing receded like a tide from his battered body, leaving only a nearly‑shattered shell. But he had won. In this pure contest of strength, he — Nyx — had stood until the very end.
"...I... I'Z..."
Gork opened his mouth, revealing his iconic great tusks, but for a long while could not form complete words. His enormous head was now empty, as though a Squig was rampaging inside, overturning every thought.
"WE AIN'T FALLEN!" Mork took the lead in breaking the awkward Ork silence. His voice was like muffled thunder. "BY DA RULES — DIS IZ A DRAW, AT MOST!"
By the rules, they had indeed not fallen. But every Ork present knew full well: when Gork and Mork drew upon the WAAAGH! energy of all greenskins, yet were still pushed back — their phantom pierced in a head‑on clash — the balance of victory had tipped, undeniable.
"Heh... heh..."
Nyx could only tug at the corners of his mouth, a weary chuckle escaping him. He had not even the strength to argue.
"...I... I DON' CARE!" Gork finally found his train of thought — arrogant, yet thoroughly Orkish. "DIS ONE DON'T COUNT! AT MOST... AT MOST IT'S A DRAW! BUT NYX — WE'Z GONNA REMEMBER YA, GIT! YOU'Z A PROPA OPPONENT!"
What was this? A unique, backhanded Ork acknowledgement of mighty adversaries? Nyx could only smile helplessly.
"BUT YA — YA GOT BUSTED UP REAL BAD." Gork muttered, his colossal green palm suddenly snatching up a squealing Squig. "WE FELT BAD 'BOUT DAT."
Beneath Nyx's alarmed gaze, Gork clenched his fingers —
*SPLAT——! *
A once‑lively, chaotic Squig was instantly transformed into an indescribable, viscous green paste.
"...Gork... What are you...?!" Nyx's voice carried a rare note of genuine horror.
Upon the crude Ork face of the elder brother spread a smile that could almost be called 'earnest'. Completely ignoring Nyx's feeble resistance, he smeared the warm, slick, strangely‑scented Squig paste onto Nyx's exposed, skeletal arm.
BLECH! An indescribable nausea instantly overwhelmed Nyx's senses! Such an injury, while severe, was for him merely a matter of expending energy on cellular recombination. But now... Nyx was seriously considering on‑site amputation.*
"...Thanks... Thanks..."
Nyx was almost tearful. He felt the raw, wild, yet extraordinarily potent vital energy seeping into his bones through the revolting paste, beginning to regenerate flesh and blood.
This was Gork's unique 'care', born of some crude goodwill. What more could he say?
"DON'T MENTION IT, NYX!" Gork grinned. "JUS' A LITTLE SUMFIN AFTER A PROPA SCRAP!"
"ME AN' ME BROTHER GOT A GIFT FOR YA TOO!" Mork added loudly from the side.
The next moment, Gork and Mork's forms swelled once more, reverting to their majestic, heaven‑standing godly postures. Gork carefully pinched Nyx between two fingers and lifted him into the air. Mork sat to the side, cracking his massive knuckles and striking a pose that was... brain‑searing.
"...Wait... What are you...?!" Nyx's protest was feeble. Before these two Ork gods, he could only passively receive this 'gift'.
"DON'T WORRY — YA GONNA LOIKE IT!" Gork's voice was like an avalanche. "OH, AN' WHEN DA TIME COMES — HELP US KRUMP DAT SMELLY GREEN FAT GIT!"
"GO!"
Mork's massive thumb flicked — 'flicked' relative to his size, of course.
*FWOOOSH! *
An irresistible force instantly propelled Nyx's body! He transformed into a blazing meteor, tore through the spatial barrier of the Ork Divine Realm, pierced the Warp's turbulence, and hurtled toward a completely unknown, distant direction. Only a fading golden trail remained behind.
"...Father? FATHER?!!"
Typhon , the bridge.*
Every warrior had witnessed that light — like a meteor — passing through the observation port. Half an hour ago, they had still sensed Nyx's struggle and ultimate victory through that faint yet tenacious connection, and had cheered for him.
Arthas clearly remembered that, just moments ago, the Captain had declared to all with absolute conviction: "The Space King is fine."
Now, that suspended heart was finally, definitively, dead.
Nyx was indeed 'absolutely fine'. He had only just returned — and in the blink of an eye, vanished again!
"ALL SHIPS — TURN!" Arthas's voice was resolute, suppressing all shock and confusion. "MAXIMUM VELOCITY! FOLLOW MY FATHER'S TRAJECTORY — FULL SPEED AHEAD!"
He no longer cared whether they deviated from the Great Crusade's course, or lost contact with the main fleet. In this moment, finding Nyx — finding their gene‑sire — was paramount.
Father... Father! How can we live without you?!