The Legend of Azhakkstadd : Cosmic Uprising

~Deep in the Universe~ In the silent cradle of the cosmos, where no star dared shimmer and no god dared peer, something stirred. Far beyond the reach of galaxies, where time itself moved like frozen breath, a forgotten force cracked through the void—a heartbeat older than creation, pulsing with hatred, hunger, and memory. The stars around it blinked out, one by one, not extinguished by distance or age, but devoured. Varnaxis, the Null Star, had awakened. Once a sentient titan of celestial fire, Varnaxis was now a dying star made sentient by cosmic sorrow and unquenchable vengeance. Bound by the Supreme Court of Azhakkstadd eons ago, it had been sealed within a prison of light, shattered and scattered as asteroidal fragments across the multiverse, each piece chained to a realm that dared deny its dominion. The gods thought time would erode its wrath. They were wrong. When the last of its fragments pulsed with resonance—when the final echo returned to the hollow of its heart—Varnaxis broke free. And the universe screamed. A surge unlike any other ruptured through the fabric of existence. Comets wept stardust. Moons fractured under invisible pressure. Nebulas twisted in agony as the ancient balance was undone. Across the realms, even divine thrones trembled. In Azhakkstadd, the luminous spires dimmed for the first time in eternity. And as the surge spiraled outward, it collided with another unsuspecting world—Earth. There, the skies rippled with colors unnamed, satellites failed mid-orbit, and dreamers spoke in languages not their own. Something cold... ancient... had arrived. From the shattered void, Varnaxis whispered into existence: “I remember... the light that burned me. The time you tried to take. The names you wore like crowns.” “Now, I return. I reclaim. I consume.” Its first vow was vengeance—to unmake the gods and goddesses who had bound it in silence and shadow. But it would not begin with Azhakkstadd alone. No... it would collapse the multiverse, one memory at a time. And thus began the Cosmic Uprising. ~Aetherion : The Realm of the Gods~ Far above Azhakkstadd, beyond the reach of mortal skies and celestial constellations, Atherion shimmered—a realm of radiant thrones, suspended galaxies, and ever-burning scrolls. It was the sanctuary of gods, the eternal seat of balance, untouched by time... until now. A fracture cracked through the Heartstone of Silence. The divine halls darkened, and the stars adorning the roof of Atherion blinked uncertainly. A tremor rippled through the Stairwell of Origins, as the gods turned toward one another in alarm. Zico, the Master of Time’s Loom, stood still—his eyes swirling with vortexes of futures untold. “He is no longer bound,” Zico whispered, voice like crumbling space. A sharp gust tore through the chambers as Malikstar, High King of the Gods, rose from his Celestial Seat. His golden crown flickered as if struggling to hold its light. “Who dares speak that name in Atherion?” thundered Kadmos, Sovereign of the Twin Suns, his voice burning the air. But the silence that followed was darker than denial—it was confirmation. Elara, Matron of Galaxies, closed her constellation-woven veil. “The Dim has begun. Even the Andromari Spirals pulse in fear. I saw the cores of distant stars wailing.” “Varnaxis,” Zuma muttered, stepping from the shadows, his cloak stitched from the void. “The Null Star has awakened. He remembers everything.” Roshan and Ozanne flanked Kadmos, each flickering with daylight and noonlight, yet even their radiance could not breach the creeping grayness that coiled through the realm. “We shattered his prison,” said Darek, Sage of Endless Tomes, rolling out a scroll that now unspooled on its own. “Each asteroid sealed by sacred oath, scattered to the farthest realms—Earth included.” “And yet,” Yoloswagens, the Oracle of Verity, spoke gravely, her voice cutting through illusion, “truth cannot be buried when memory is the devourer.” Zico turned slowly, his fingers tightening around the staff of collapsing hours. “He consumes time, light, and memory. And he does not forget who sealed him. His first vengeance will be upon us.” Aislara clenched her spear. “Then we face him.” “We are too late for that,” said Pisani, Warden of Winds and Seasons. “The surge... it has already touched Earth.” Gasps rippled through the chamber. The mortal world was never meant to be drawn into divine affairs. Malikstar raised his hand, and across the floor of Atherion bloomed a vision: A planet blue and green—Earth—now flickering with unstable energy. Across its skies, cracks of voidlight shimmered. Two figures—one cloaked in shadow, the other in thunder—stood at the epicenter of a glowing impact zone. “Two heroes have been touched by the fragments,” said Iantha, Warden of Sight Beyond Sight, eyes glowing silver. “The prophecy accelerates.” “Then the uprising has begun,” Zuma concluded. The gods stood in a fractured circle. Divine flames wavered. Ancient pacts trembled. And high above, unnoticed by even the keenest divine senses, a single voice slithered through the edges of Atherion: “I will burn your names from the firmament. You caged me in silence. Now you will scream in it.” Varnaxis had returned. ~Earth~ At first, it was subtle. A flicker. A shadow passing over the sun at noon in cities across the world. Then—darkness. Not nightfall, not an eclipse. A dimness that spread like spilled ink across the atmosphere. Even the brightest noonday skies dulled to a cold twilight. Solar panels stopped charging. Lights flickered in homes, offices, and streets. Phones lost signal. GPS drifted miles off-track. And then, everyone looked up. In Tokyo, New York, Cairo, and Manila, people gathered on rooftops and sidewalks, shielding their eyes. There were no clouds. No stars. No sun. Just an uncanny silver veil crawling across the sky like living fog. Something ancient and wrong stirred behind it. Only days ago after an unusual meteor shower, the skies were the darkest. The epicenter. [LIVE – CNN International] “We interrupt programming—uh, we’re receiving global reports of a… cosmic dimming? I repeat, this is not a solar eclipse. The NOAA is calling it a planetary-scale light anomaly. World leaders are—hold on, we’re receiving another update—” [BBC World] “—lights going out across Europe—air traffic grounded—satellite images failing to capture the source—” [t****k Viral Clip – 13M Views] Vlogger: “Guys! GUYS! I’m at Rizal Park and the sun literally just—disappeared? Like? There’s no shadow? What the hell is that in the sky?” (Zooms into a pulsing gray fissure splitting open midair.) [X Trending] #TheDimming #GlobalBlackout #NotAnEclipse #AreWeDying ~Manila~ People huddled around a mounted screen, half-drunk coffees abandoned. Students, workers, travelers—faces painted with panic and awe. Some were livestreaming. Others were crying. An elderly woman whispered prayers in Tagalog. A child asked if the moon had swallowed the sun. Then came the rumble. A sound that wasn’t a sound—like space itself was inhaling. It passed through the world like a silent quake. Windows cracked. Streetlights exploded. Phones buzzed, glitched, and died. One man, a street preacher, screamed, “It’s a reckoning! The stars are bleeding! We are not alone!” And overhead, high above Manila, a single c***k bloomed in the veil—jagged, radiant, and writhing. It wasn’t light. It was memory being rewritten, peeled back and devoured.