The Nameless Heir

He looked out into the distance, making sure Liz and the others had gotten far enough. A breath of relief slipped from his lips. Good. At least they were safe. That was all that mattered.

The Titan's voice cut through the haze, harsh and mocking. "What are you looking at? Hoping for a way out? You think staring at the horizon will save you?"

His eyes narrowed, dragging back to him. "Looks like they're far enough." His voice stayed flat. "I've got plenty of time."

He stripped off his armored coat, leaving only the thin black clothes underneath. The coat hit the ground with a heavy thud, the impact shaking the island. The Titan's eyes widened as invisible chains wrapped tight around his body, each one buried into the ground as if he'd been holding something down all along.

His chest rose once, steady. The weight pressing against him didn't matter—not compared to the thought of Liz caught in it. He wasn't going to let that happen again.

His eyes lit with a cold glow. The air thickened, turning dense, almost lucid. Shadows curled off his frame. His voice was quiet, but it carried, steady as stone.

"Let me tell you a story."

"There was once a man full of pride. He thought he could do better. So he challenged his creator, fought his heart out, clung to the belief that he was greater than the one who made him." His jaw tightened, the memory pressing like a knife. "But he lost."

The chains around his body rattled as if they could feel the words. "He was cast into the depths of the Underworld, forced to punish those who disobeyed the supreme creator. It was meant to be torment. But he twisted it into an advantage. He took those broken souls, turned their punishment into a weapon for his revenge."

A bitter smirk flickered across his face. "He lost again. And that time the punishment was worse. His father bound him in chains, sealed him in the Underworld so he could never rise again. Eternal duty. Eternal weight. A prison without walls."

The Titan's eyes narrowed, watching as his aura shifted. The ground cracked beneath his boots.

"But then… he met someone." His voice softened for a breath, almost human. "She spoke of the world above. Gave him a dream. A chance to be free. So he cut his own wings… tore them from his back, just to feel the sky again."

He lifted his arms, and the chains wrapped tight around him rattled, then began to strain. "But the chains never left. They clung to him in every life. A mark. A curse. No matter how far he ran, the weight dragged him back."

His crimson red eyes locked with the Titan's. "And now, for the first time, I can remove them. But when I do…" The first crack split through the black iron, the sound sharp and heavy. "…I'm not sure I'll be able to control myself. It's a power I haven't touched in ages."

Another chain split, sparks of shadow and light burning off the links.

"So do me a favor." His voice dropped, colder, heavier. "Don't die too fast. I'm tired of my stories ending the same way."

The chains snapped.

The clouds above stirred, twisting into a spiral. He dropped to one knee, the sound of his breath sharp and ragged. The Titan stood frozen, unsure if this was his end or the beginning of something worse.

A sound clawed out of his throat—not just pain, but rage. It rolled across the island, a pressure so dense even the Titan flinched. The force shoved Iapetus back a step. He tried to push forward, but the weight in the air pressed him down, making every movement slow.

His back jerked. His teeth ground together. Something moved under his skin, twisting. A sharp crack. Then another. The flesh at his shoulder split—something forcing its way out. From the right side, jagged and sudden, a wing tore free. White. Angelic.

The Titan roared, his own power flooding the battlefield as he lunged. But before he could reach, the Seven Sins rose like a wall before him, shadows surging, holding the line.

His head lifted, his face twisted in pain, yet a faint laugh broke through the sound of his gasps. "You would have thought…" His voice cracked, but the smirk was there.

Then his body convulsed. The other side of his back split open, flesh tearing as bone forced its way out. Blood poured down his ribs. His breath hitched, vision burning red at the edges, but he forced himself upright. He refused to bow. Another wing burst out, tearing through skin and cloth alike. The feathers shone white, clean, wrong. His lips curled. He hated that light, hated what it meant.

The shadows around him writhed, coiling upward, wrapping over the wings in a slow, suffocating embrace. Feathers, once white, shimmered in the glow—before the black crept in.

One by one, the feathers darkened. White fading into pitch. His wings spread wide, vast and terrible, as a scream ripped out of him that shook the island.

And the Titan could only watch.

He rose into the air, wings stretching wide, shadows dripping off the feathers like liquid night. His arms spread, the wind rushing against him. For a moment his voice was quiet, almost to himself.

"I feel free."

Below, the Sins dropped to one knee, bowing as they melted back into the darkness. Their forms sank into the earth, leaving him alone against the storm. His gaze lifted, fixing on the Titan. A faint smirk curved across his lips.

Then he moved.

He shot forward, blade arcing down in a brutal strike. The force rattled through the ground, carving a crater beneath Iapetus's feet. The Titan staggered, muscles straining to hold him back.

The red sand stirred.

It rose in spears, sharp as glass, aiming to skewer him midair. He tilted his body, wings shifting with effortless precision. Each strike missed, stabbing through empty sky. He circled above, untouchable, his movements smooth where the Titan's were strained.

Fear crept across Iapetus's face. The sand thickened, swirling faster, coating his frame like armor. Around them, the land itself began to wither. Trees bent and rotted. Monsters hidden in the forest cried out as their bodies shriveled, their life torn away and drawn into the Titan's growing bulk.

The ground shuddered. Iapetus laughed, a deep, harsh sound that rolled with the storm. His chest swelled with stolen strength, the air vibrating as red sand exploded upward.

A thousand grains shot skyward at once, moving like a storm of bullets.

He slipped through them. His wings folded tight, body twisting as he spun past each wave. The air hissed with their speed, the sand shredding trees and stone behind him. Where he flew, only silence remained, as though the storm bent around his path.

Iapetus roared, thrusting both arms outward. The desert itself responded. Walls of red sand erupted, crashing together, trying to trap him in a shifting coffin. Spears, blades, and jagged shapes burst from every side, the Titan bending the battlefield into a weapon.

But he only smirked.

He wove between the shifting walls, shadows gathering at his wings. He slipped through cracks before they closed, each beat scattering sparks and shadow alike. His blade lashed out, splitting one wall of sand in half before it could crush him.

The Titan pressed harder, his form blurring in the storm, sand molding around him into monstrous shapes. Arms of grit and stone rose from the earth, clawing for him.

He didn't slow. His sword carved through one massive hand, the impact sending shockwaves across the battlefield. He twisted midair, wings flicking shadows like knives, tearing apart the sand constructs before they could reform.

But the Titan was far from finished.

The desert rumbled, and the ground split open beneath him. A vortex of red sand rose, twisting into a giant drill that aimed to swallow him whole.

His eyes narrowed. He dove straight into it.

The shadows wrapped his blade, coating it in black fire. He cut through the storm itself, tearing the drill apart from the inside. Red sand exploded outward in a violent burst, raining across the battlefield in broken shards.

Through the haze, he emerged—wings spread wide, eyes cold.

The Titan's laughter broke into a snarl. He gathered the sand tighter, his body swelling again, desperation cracking through his voice.

He tilted his head, smirk sharp. "Is that all?"

"Why did you hold back this whole time?" the Titan asked, chest heaving, voice raw.

His smile was faint, almost amused. "If she had seen this form, she would have regained her memory. And that would be a no-no." His eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of satisfaction cutting through the calm. "You probably noticed… that story I told? She was the one who freed me."

The Titan's jaw clenched.

He let out a slow sigh, almost disappointed. "Well, this was fun. But it's time to end it."

His grip tightened around the weapon. Shadows surged from every corner of the battlefield, flowing like rivers into his scythe. The weapon shifted, its edge glowing darker than night itself.

"Shadowbane, second form," he murmured. His voice dropped, colder. "God Slayer."

The shadows spun faster and faster, coiling around the blade until the air itself roared. Wind pulled toward him in spirals, dragging trees, sand, even stone into the vortex. The sky dimmed.

In one last effort, Iapetus roared and hurled a storm of red sand forward. The storm cracked the ground, shrieking toward him.

But the spinning scythe tore through it. Each grain shredded to nothing before it could reach.

He shifted, spinning with the weapon. His hand clamped down on the staff, pulling it into line. His wings spread wide.

"Absolute Null."

The blade dropped.

A black crescent split the world open, sweeping forward in a curve that devoured everything it touched. The Titan threw all his strength into pushing it back, roaring as sand walls, storms, and raw force slammed against the crescent.

It didn't matter.

The cut tore through his defense as if it wasn't there, ripping straight across his body. Half his frame split apart, from shoulder to waist. No fragment remained. No scream. His life was erased in a single strike.

The silence afterward was heavier than the clash.

He descended slowly, landing beside the ruined remains. His shadow coiled forward, reaching into the corpse. His hand plunged into the chest, pulling free a heart still pulsing faintly with divine power.

He lifted it once, then placed it into the shadows. The darkness swallowed it whole, carrying it away to the Three Sisters of Fate.