Chapter 1: Death of Hope
"God will be pleased with you," A cold and heavy voice rang, cutting through the oppressive silence. The words were laced with chilling coldness but also a hint of undeniable respect.
The one who spoke was a man of tall stature, standing over 7.4 feet tall. His physique was not thin nor bulky, just refined muscle perfect for his height.
He wore flowing, layered robes, his chiseled face framed by long strands of white hair. His cold, almost lifeless eyes gleamed a pale, eerie white, matching his chalk-white skin.
In front of him stood a man of similar stature, a figure with long, flowing golden hair that cascaded over his shoulders.
His face, sharp and undeniably handsome, held an air of quiet intensity, and his golden eyes burned with undeniable confidence, giving him an aura that demanded recognition without a single word spoken.
However, this was no standoff between two men of authority, as the golden-haired human had a gaping hole larger than a basketball on the right of his chest, blood and fluids pooling beneath his feet like a muddy, growing pond.
"You have nothing to say to this grand audience?" The Robed man spoke, spreading his arm wide before continuing. "Nothing, To your people, to my people?"
The two men stood upon a vast platform, the rooftop of a towering, arched spire that crowned a grand palace.
Above them, the blue sky was shadowed by colossal airships, marvels of peak technology. On their outer decks, individuals of various races, draped in noble attire, stood in silent witness, their gazes fixed upon the two figures poised atop the tower.
"We were meant to have a dual to death to end the battle between our warring factions," He said, his voice heavy with something that was neither pity nor satisfaction.
"Your victory would have ultimately resulted in the end of great war and given humanity the unchallenged and unified throne of the Milky Way Galaxy,"