The Voidwalker Chronicles

Welcome back, brave readers. In this chapter, tensions reach their peak as Nero Angelo confronts the all-powerful beings who shape existence itself. This isn't just a battle of strength—it's a clash of pain, justice, and the will to carry the unbearable burden of loss. Hold tight, because the cosmos itself trembles beneath their words.

The void seemed to hold its breath. The all-powerful beings — The One-Above-All, The Presence, Featherine Augustus Aurora, Zeno, and others beyond mortal comprehension — leaned forward, voices layered with authority, disbelief, and fury.

The Presence spoke first, his voice deep and commanding, reverberating through the endless expanse."Nero Angelo, your defiance is not only reckless — it threatens the fabric of reality itself. We maintain the balance so that existence endures. Your actions sow chaos, risking annihilation beyond repair."

Featherine's eyes shimmered with cold disdain.

"Balance is not subjective. Vengeance is a path for mortals, not gods. Your crusade is selfish, fueled by pain but blind to consequence. You upset the order that allows universes to breathe."

Zeno's small figure floated between, voice trembling but sharp,

"You defy us all. We—who create and destroy with purpose—ask again: why? What makes you worthy to judge what lives or dies? What makes you the arbiter of fate?"

Nero's silver eyes snapped open, blazing with unyielding fury. The very air cracked around him, reality warping as his voice echoed with the weight of endless suffering:

"Where were you when they tortured my family? When they murdered them right before my eyes—time and again, through infinite pain? Where was your so-called 'balance' when I had to lose everything over and over, with no end in sight?"

The void shuddered violently, cracks spiderwebbing through existence. Even the gods faltered beneath the raw power of his grief. Clucknor, perched atop Nero's shoulder, ruffled his feathers nervously, sensing the shift.

Nero's voice lowered but grew colder, steeled with unbreakable resolve:

"I don't do this for power. I don't do this for chaos. I do this because someone must. Because the ones who deserve saving deserve it with everything I have. Because what must be destroyed, will be destroyed. And what was never meant to exist… will be erased."

Featherine's gaze sharpened, her tone biting:

"And what of the countless lives caught in your path? Innocents? Children? Do their screams matter to you? Or are you blind, drunk on your own righteousness?"

Nero's eyes darkened further, and the void around them darkened with his will.

"Innocents? Children? I have seen them fall too. But unlike you, I carry their pain. I bear their suffering. I am not blind. I am not drunk. I am the reckoning you refuse to be."

The Presence's voice grew thunderous, resonating with the authority of creation itself:

"Your wrath risks unraveling all that we built. If unchecked, you become no better than the monsters you hunt."

Nero stepped forward, his silhouette radiating an impossible coldness.

"Better to be the reckoning than the indifferent gods who watch from their thrones while worlds burn. Your indifference is the true monster."

Zeno's lips trembled, voice barely audible,

"You claim justice, but you defy the natural order. You stand alone against eternity."

Nero's expression hardened, and his hand slowly formed a fist.

"I don't need to stand with you. I only need to stand."

The void rippled violently. Clucknor let out a sharp, uneasy caw as if warning the gods themselves.

Nero turned his back to the assembly, voice low and final:

"I am not your villain. I am the consequence. The reckoning. The reset."

As he began to vanish into the folds of the void, silence fractured like glass.

Suddenly, the gods stiffened. The Presence raised a hand, energy crackling; Featherine's eyes blazed; Zeno's face hardened in resolve.

The entire council readied themselves. Weapons of unimaginable power materialized. Cosmic energies surged.

They were preparing to eliminate Nero Angelo.