IMMORTAL SLAYER

The darkness sang.

It wasn't a sound, not truly. It was a vibration, an ancient hum that echoed in every bone in Gabriel's body, resonating in his chest, his soul. It felt like being submerged in an endless ocean of blackness, drowning in something older than the stars.

Zareth, the thing inside him, had awoken fully.

And now… it wasn't alone.

"We are the beginning," the voice rumbled again. "And we will be the end."

Gabriel's fingers clawed at his own chest, as if trying to tear out the source of the voice. His breath came in ragged gasps, his skin prickling with cold sweat as if the very air had turned to ice.

"No," Gabriel growled through gritted teeth. "Not you. Not again."

But the presence was relentless. It crawled through his mind, wrapped itself around his thoughts, and threatened to crush his will.

Aziel stood behind him, his hand resting on his sword hilt. "Gabriel… you need to fight this. You can."

But Gabriel barely heard him. His eyes were wide, pupils blown black, his veins pulsing with dark energy. His body twitched, every muscle struggling against the pull of Zareth. The tatum, pressed tightly against his side, pulsed with a faint warmth—an invitation.

But Gabriel couldn't reach for it. He couldn't. The darkness inside him was too consuming.

"Let me in," the voice growled again, but this time it wasn't Zareth alone. It was the thing that had been woken by him—something much, much older. The Eater of Worlds.

And now it had a way in.

The ground beneath them trembled.

The very air seemed to fold in on itself, as if reality were being stretched thin, too thin to support their world. The trees around the Cradle began to wither, their branches twisting into grotesque shapes as though something was draining the life from them. The stars above blinked in and out, like dying fireflies.

Merlin stepped forward, his voice strained. "Gabriel! You must resist—you cannot let the thing inside you take over!"

But Gabriel only shuddered. His breath was ragged, his hands gripping his skull as if to keep it from splitting in two.

"I can't," he gasped. "It's too much… it's taking me, Merlin…"

"Fight!" Merlin shouted, his magic crackling around him as the ground buckled beneath their feet.

Aziel clenched his sword tighter. "If you can't fight it from the inside, we'll do it from the outside."

But before anyone could move, the world tilted.

The sky itself seemed to warp, folding in on itself. The stars above blinked out completely.

Then—

It happened.

A ripple in the fabric of reality.

And from the void, something shaped itself into existence.

It was impossible to describe. It was like looking at the sun from the other side of the universe, too close to comprehend its shape. It was a mass of swirling darkness, an endless void stretching into infinity, a thing that consumed everything around it.

And yet…

It was alive.

A massive, consuming entity, made not of matter, but of pure hunger.

The Eater of Worlds.

Gabriel's body convulsed, the force inside him trying to rip free. He felt Zareth pushing against him—reaching for the entity that stood before them, calling it with a voice that wasn't his own.

The void flickered with shapes, visions of endless destruction. Cities swallowed whole, oceans burning with fire, mountains crumbling to dust.

The Eater was awake, and it was hungry.

From the shadows of the Cradle, a figure appeared.

Merlin turned toward the figure, eyes narrowing. The newcomer stepped out of the shifting dark—a tall, regal figure, clad in armor made of silvered stone, his face obscured by a dark hood.

"You…?" Merlin breathed. "You should not be here."

The figure tilted his head, his voice like the sound of grinding stone. "There is no more place for me in the heavens, old one. But the boy… he will need more than your ancient magics to survive what is coming."

Aziel stepped forward, sword raised. "Who are you?"

The figure's gaze fell on Gabriel, his eyes glowing with an eerie light. "I am the one who has been waiting. For centuries, for eons, I have slept, bound by chains woven in fire. But now…" He looked up, and for the first time, Gabriel felt something other than the consuming darkness—the faintest trace of hope.

"I have come to free him."

The wind picked up.

Gabriel's body trembled, but his eyes, for the first time, flickered with something more than the darkness that clawed at his soul.

"I am Zareth, and I am hunger," the voice rumbled again, but now it was distorted, as if two forces were trying to control his body at once.

The figure moved forward. His hand stretched out toward Gabriel. "No," he said, his voice both gentle and commanding. "The boy will not be your vessel."

Gabriel's eyes flickered between the figure and the swirling mass of the Eater. He couldn't feel anything anymore—no anger, no fear, just a hollow emptiness that spread through him like a disease.

The figure placed a hand on Gabriel's shoulder, and suddenly, something deep inside him stirred. Not the hunger, not Zareth, but something else.

Something that had been hidden for far too long.

"Fight, boy," the figure whispered. "Fight yourself."

Gabriel's body jolted. He felt a sharp pain, as if something was shattering inside him. His hand, trembling, reached for the tatum in his pocket.

The presence that had been within him pushed—but this time, Gabriel didn't back down.

He fought.

Above the world, the heavens trembled.

The Eater of Worlds shrieked. It had been denied.

And for the first time in millennia, the creature that had once consumed all now feared.