The Black March had begun.
And the world could do nothing but watch.
From the shattered plains of the west to the trembling shores of the east,
the earth bled darkness.
It wasn't just Asura anymore.
It was everything he touched.
Towns collapsed before him.
Fortresses built over centuries disintegrated under a glance.
Entire forests withered into skeletal wastelands.
The sky itself mourned —
permanently dark, heavy with blackened clouds that rained ash instead of water.
Behind Asura marched his army.
Not soldiers.
Not warriors.
Creatures.
Corrupted Sigil users.
Twisted beasts born from the Abyss.
Broken humans too shattered to resist the infection of his Worldbreaker Aura.
No banners.
No anthems.
Only the endless sound of marching footsteps over dead soil.
The System flickered across his vision:
[Dominion Expansion: 81%.]
[World Stability: 29%.]
[Projected Time to Total Collapse: 72 Hours.]
Ahead, the Eastern Capital stood stubbornly against the dark tide.
One last city.
One last wall.
One last breath.
Inside its broken streets,
Arin Veyla moved among the survivors.
Children.
Mothers.
Wounded warriors with missing limbs and empty eyes.
She taught them how to hold broken weapons.
How to weave weak protective Sigils.
How to stand — even when they knew standing wouldn't save them.
Hope didn't come from victory.
Hope came from refusing to kneel.
Every night, the black sky grew closer.
Every morning, the tremors in the earth grew stronger.
And every hour, the whispers spread:
"He's coming…"
"The Abyss Monarch…"
"The end has a name now."
Arin trained until her hands bled.
She spoke until her voice broke.
She stood until her legs gave out.
Because she knew…
Once Asura reached the Eastern Wall,
there would be no second chances.
Far beyond the mountains,
Asura paused atop a ridge of shattered stone.
Below him stretched the eastern valley.
The last untouched land.
The last defiance.
He could feel it now —
like a candle flickering stubbornly against an unstoppable storm.
Her light.
Thin.
Fractured.
Beautiful.
Pathetic.
He smiled faintly.
Not out of cruelty.
Out of inevitability.
The final march would be swift.
The last city would burn.
The last light would die.
And the world would finally belong to him.
The abyss behind him growled —
thousands of corrupted voices begging for release.
His Worldbreaker Aura rippled outward,
cracking stone, freezing rivers, blotting out stars.
The System chimed:
[Final Resistance Proximity: 27 miles.]
[Recommended Action: Full Eradication Sweep.]
Asura said nothing.
There was no need for plans.
No need for strategies.
Only movement.
Only conquest.
Only silence.
He stepped forward.
And the Black March resumed.
In the Eastern Capital,
Arin opened her eyes from a restless, haunted sleep.
Far in the distance, she could see it.
A black wave swallowing the horizon.
No sound.
No warning.
Only the end.
She tightened the worn strap on her armor.
Gripped the fractured Light Sigil embedded in her palm.
Whispered one last prayer to gods she no longer believed in.
And stood.
Because sometimes…
Even when the world dies around you…
You don't fight because you can win.
You fight because it's the only thing left that's real.