The Gods. Over the long expanse of time, they've been described in many ways. Fickle. Angry. Uncaring. But there are too many Gods, and not enough words to describe all of them at once. But there is one word, and one word alone, that does describe all Gods, nearly universally. Scared.
Eons ago, the unspeakable horror now only known as the Scarlet King had surfaced from the Great Abyss, no, became the Great Abyss, and declared war on the Tree of Knowledge and all it held. And so began the million-year Cold War. Both sides sought to gain an advantage of any kind over the other. But alas, the only constant in Creation is change. And so would this cold war soon change.
Eons ago, there was a war in Heaven Above. Lucifer and all who accompanied him were cast into Hell for this treason. And so the Scarlet King's horde invaded, seeking to gain control of its demonic energies, energies that would be powerful enough to give the Scarlet King an edge. And so the Scarlet King's horde was repelled. Again, and again, and again. But the King was nothing if not patient, and so he sat and waited, as his horde chipped away at Hell's defences, battering them like an ocean to a rock. And then something broke.
The Scarlet King's forces rushed forward like a wave, slaughtering everything and everyone in sight. And to the center, they went, to Lucifer's Citadel. And there, Lucifer himself put up a desperate last fight. And so, to their master, the horde called, and to their call, their master answered.
The clouds burned crimson as the sky split open. And then came the Scarlet King. Dread washed over Lucifer and his remaining forces, for the Monarch in Red was the inevitable end, the darkness that waited at the end of all things. As the Scarlet King walked towards the citadel, so was he barraged by a flurry of weapons, of demons, of fallen angels. But no mere demon or angel could fell the King, and so they themselves fell in droves. And then the Scarlet King reached the citadel.
The King raised his arms as he began to glow, glowing so bright as to blind. And then, the King began to subsume the realm. It made no differentiation between friend and foe, as all were made one with the Scarlet King, all absorbed into its emptiness. Its army, the enemy's army, the demons, Lucifer himself, the Scarlet King consumed and consumed and consumed, until finally, there was nothing left. Finally, it was ready for non-existence. Finally, it was ready for the battle to come.
But Creation would not fade into oblivion, not without a fight. As the Scarlet King battered away at Hell, so too had Creation been preparing. To humanity, 36 warriors of a nature not of Earth were granted. To the Gods, seven spears of unnatural power were granted. And so the forges of Creation lit for the first time since Creation's inception. So beautiful, so bright they were, they drowned out the stars of the sky with their light.
The forges rang out, again, and again, and again. Creation sang a song of fire and metal each time the hammer fell. And finally, all was ready.
And Creation was quiet.
And Creation was still.
And Creation was still.
And Creation was still.
And Creation trembled with the weight of the approaching army.
And Creation trembled with the weight of the approaching nothingness.
And so was the final battlefield set. And so was the stage was set for one final battle. One final battle to determine the fate of all existence. One final battle to determine the fate of life and death. One final battle to determine the fate of the future. One. Final. Battle.
And that is what was so sorrowful about it.