The tower as black as the darkest of night, so dark that someone could wonder if they hadn’t become blind as the complete darkness raised a pillar holding the heavens.

At the top a throne

In the past could be heard the sharp swing of metal cutting the space and the devastating sound of construction itself breaking under the weight of the blows. The flares of fire arcane fire and frost mist mixed in a paradoxical balance.The elegant accuracy martial and mystical techniques that are long forgotten clashed with the forbidden words and skills.

The sound echoed in the wind, overpowering the dull explosion.

The despair of confusion and regret scarred the earth and heaven.

The wrath of the unjust and betrayed ask, ravage the mind and soul.

Ask without anyone to answer, alone around thousand, lost between hundreds at his sight, and their dozen at his arm's length. The masses listen to his words but like the wind remain silence, with each word sink in powerlessness in the suffocating fear of having their core squished to break this stalemate but the void of answers was the loudest scream of mercy they could make.

The elite soldiers that would march glad to the mouth of The World Eater, couldn’t muster their courage.

How many times, how many life’s, how much suffer you desire?How many times, how many life’s, how much suffer you desire?Can you dear reader, sing a lullaby for The Lord of The End?The Last Boss of this dying world.

old?Can you dear reader, sing a lullaby for The Lord of The End?The Last Boss of this dying world?

The generals that faced all that life has to offer and lead their duty to be the bitter end if necessary, couldn’t form a simple sentence.

The arch-magicians that controlled the very rules and power of principles of nature couldn’t control their emotion.

The king of spirits, souls, and death that made their life to understand and command the beyond, to link what was broken and mend what is shattered, they couldn’t even touch the endless abyss that is in front of them.

Demon spilling hellfire from their mouth and angels that spread the light of The One are in that moment shared the very same place beside the winner, a sad and struggling winner.

They are master of their planes, kings of their subjects and gods of their temple and yet not a word, their banner still flutter high but their symbol is laying in the center. He asks one last thing and none of them can give.

...

Ohh… who? who I ask, would sing a lullaby for The Lord of the End?

How many times? how many lives? how much suffer you desire?

Can you dear reader, sing a lullaby for The Lord of The End?

The Last Boss of this dying world?