DragonBeast18
PROLOGUE: THE WEIGHT OF A DYING SUN
The war was over, but the victory felt like a funeral.
In the center of the celestial crater, Drigo stood amidst the cooling ash of the Devil King's throne. His white-gold armor was fractured, and the Dragon Blade trembled in his grip. To the world, he was a savior. To the Mastermind within him, he was a man running out of time.
As he looked at his hands, he saw the flicker of gold energy beneath his skin-the Physical Toll. Every second he held the Divine Stone's power, his "Vessel of Clay" moved closer to shattering.
Deep in the Mirror Dimension, the silence was broken by a rhythmic pulse. The obsidian Core of the Devil King had not been destroyed; it had been ejected. It waited in the dark until a hand reached out to claim it. Darkamo did not hesitate. As his fingers closed around the soul of the Void, a pact was sealed-not of master and servant, but of loyal companions.
"The light thinks it has won," a fused, dual-toned voice whispered into the cold. "But the Dragon is blind to what he is about to lose."
Back in his sanctum, Drigo stared at the surveillance data, his eyes crackling with Santos's Blue Lightning. He saw the ghost in the machine-the anomaly that proved his enemy was still alive. He realized that his strategy was no longer enough. To survive the coming eclipse, he would have to break the laws of heaven.
He looked toward his friends on Earth one last time, his gaze lingering on Carl.
"Forgive me," he thought, turning toward the High Heavens. "To save you, I must become the very villain I fought to destroy."
The sun began to dim. The Divine Eclipse had begun.