Earth 02In the shattered expanse of the Verdant Pins, where the once-lush fields of Dimension Epsilon-7 had been churned into a mire of mud and carnage, the csh of empires raged unchecked. Millions of soldiers from the Allied Kingdoms and the invading hordes of the Shadow Dominion surged against one another like tidal waves of steel and fury. The air thrummed with the screams of the dying, the thunder of artillery spells, and the relentless cng of bdes. No divine banners flew here—no avatars of war gods, native or foreign, graced the field. The gods of this realm had long abandoned their followers to mortal squabbles, leaving only the raw ambition of kings and warlords to fuel the sughter.
High above the chaos, a rift tore open in the fabric of reality, a swirling vortex of crimson light that pulsed like a bleeding heart. From its maw descended a figure cd in armor as red as the blood-soaked earth below. Susuan, Saintess of the Goddess of War Hena, nded with a earth-shaking thud amid a cluster of archers, her long red hair whipping like fmes in the wind. Her eyes, sharp and unyielding, scanned the battlefield with the indifference of a predator surveying prey. She was no taller than an average warrior, yet her presence warped the air around her, as if the very essence of conflict bowed to her will.
Her armor gleamed with intricate gold filigrees, etched with symbols of eternal strife, flowing into a dark cloak that billowed like shadows fleeing the dawn. In her gauntleted hands, she gripped a massive battle axe, its bde a curved sb of ruby-hued metal adorned with glowing runes of war. These ancient sigils hummed faintly, drawing in the echoes of battles from across the multiverse—whispers of fallen empires in distant realms, the final cries of heroes in forgotten wars. For each echo absorbed, Susuan's speed doubled, a permanent boon that turned her into a blur of lethal grace. Already, from the cacophony around her, the runes fred brighter, feeding on the turmoil.
Susuan wasted no words, no decrations of allegiance. She cared not for the Kingdoms' desperate defense or the Dominion's ruthless advance. In every dimension, a Susuan like her roamed, drawn inexorably to warzones where millions cshed without the meddling of war deities. Her purpose was singur: to reap, to empower her goddess in the divine realm beyond. With a low growl that echoed like distant thunder, she charged toward the nearest line of defenders, her axe swinging in a wide arc.
The first soldier, a grizzled knight in dented pte, barely raised his shield before the axe cleaved through it like parchment. His body crumpled, lifeblood spraying in a mist that vanished into ethereal wisps, drawn upward through unseen channels to Hena's domain. There, in the goddess's eternal hall of bones, fresh skeletons cttered onto the growing piles, and rivers of blood swelled the crimson kes below her throne. Each kill was a tribute, a surge of power that bolstered Hena's might in her secluded universe.
Susuan moved like a storm, her enhanced speed making her untouchable. She wove through ranks of spearmen, her axe harvesting lives with mechanical precision. A volley of arrows whistled toward her; she sidestepped them effortlessly, the runes on her weapon pulsing as they absorbed the echoes of cshing shields from a war in a parallel void. Twice as fast now—then four times, eight. Soldiers fell in droves, their essences fueling the divine. The battlefield's red hue seemed to deepen in her wake, mirroring the scarlet of her garb, as if she were the war incarnate.
Word spread like wildfire through the lines. "A demon! A red wraith!" cried the Dominion's vanguard. The Kingdoms' mages hurled bolts of arcane fire, but Susuan vaulted over craters, her cloak deflecting embers. A brave contingent of elite warriors, sworn to a fallen god of valor, converged on her. Their leader, a hulking berserker with a warhammer forged in dragonfire, roared a challenge. "You fight for no side, fiend? Then die for none!"
He swung with earth-cracking force, but Susuan was a phantom. Her axe met his hammer in a csh that shattered the air, runes fring as they drank in the echo of a cosmic battle between titans. She countered, her bde biting deep into his side. As he fell, his comrades piled on—swords stabbing, axes hacking. For the first time, Susuan staggered, blood—her own divine ichor—seeping from wounds. But she ughed, a cold, echoing sound that chilled the souls of those nearby.
A final thrust pierced her heart. Her form shimmered, dissolving into motes of red light that spiraled back through the rift. Banished, not sin, to Hena's domain. The warriors cheered, thinking victory theirs. But the war dragged on, as wars do—months turning to seasons, the dead piling higher than the living.
Exactly one year ter, as the conflict showed no sign of abating, the rift reopened. Susuan descended once more, axe in hand, runes hungering anew. The battlefield trembled. The cycle continued, eternal as war itself.
