In the heart of Demonic Realm, the silence was absolute and suffocating. The Demon Lords stared at the latest report.

"Edgar has… lost?" Beelzebub rumbled, his voice laced with genuine shock. He crushed a diamond like stone (the source of this message) in his hand, the dust trickling through his fingers like sand. "He was a Legion-Born. A weapon of destruction."

"My toys do not break that easily, Beelzebub," Deimos said, a proud and chilling smile spreading across his face.

He stood by the window, gazing out at the swirling chaos of the Demonic Realm, his mind already thinking about the reason behind this defeat, and he mostly knew how it happened.

"But how?" Phobos questioned, the hundred terrified faces in his shadowy form whispering in confused unison. "He was winning. He was draining that Cosmos dry. Did the sixteen Gods ambush him? No… even then, Edgar would have simply absorbed their attacks and grown stronger. It doesn't make sense."

"We cannot know for certain," Deimos replied, turning back to the table. "Because a… familiar… God killed my spy the moment the battle turned. Before this Cosmos could reveal his true trump card."

He tapped a clawed finger on a new report. "But I suspect this familiar God is the source of this victory of his."

"Who is this familiar God?" Beelzebub demanded, his instincts screaming that something fundamental had shifted in the balance of power. "An ancient friend of Cosmos from a million years ago? A survivor?"

Deimos's smile widened, becoming something manic and terrifying. "See for yourselves."

He waved his hand, and a new projection materialized in the center of the dragon bone table.

It showed the final moments before the feed cut out: Edgar hammering against the shimmering barrier of Sunny's domain.

And then, a streak of golden light, faster than thought, piercing the void and obliterating the hidden spy.

"What… what was that light?" Phobos whispered, his heart or the core of fear that served as one, beating a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

He recognized that attack and the energy. He knew it, but his mind refused to accept it.

"What is the point in denying it, Phobos?" Deimos said, his voice cold. "Adam is alive. And he is nurturing this new God."

The name landed like a physical blow. The other Demon Lords shuddered.

Adam, The First-Born. The God of Growth. The being who had killed them millions for times, it was natural for them to feel fear.

"We should attack them!" Beelzebub roared, though his voice trembled. "We cannot let the God of Growth… grow. You know his talent. If he increases his strength, he will kill us all!"

"Perhaps you are right," Deimos said smoothly. He gestured to the open window, to the path that led to Sunny's domain. "Then which among you will go to kill him? Who wishes to face Adam in his own territory?"

The room fell silent. Deimos's stance was clear: if you think you can defeat Adam, be my guest. I will not help you at all.

The four Demon Lords knew they could not defeat Adam alone. They remembered his power. They feared that monster. Only Deimos could match him, and Deimos…

Deimos was mad. He wasn't looking for a victory; he was looking for a rival.

They did not know the truth. They were oblivious to the fact that Adam was a shadow of his former self, weakened by Maledictus's curse, slowly healing.

If they had known, every single one of them would have launched a charge to end him then and there.

But fear, carefully cultivated by Deimos and Adam's legacy, held them back.

"And when Maledictus returns," Deimos added, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "tell her to repent. Adam is alive only because of her failure. She promised he would die in a few thousand years. A million years later, he still stands. She deserves… punishment."

He turned back to the window, gazing at the distant point in the cosmos where a new empire was rising. "It is starting to get interesting," he whispered to the void. "Maybe this time, old friend… you will last a little longer."

Far away, in the dying light of the Multiverse of Resources, a lone figure stood at the edge of existence.

Beru, the Crown Prince of the Zerg, was a shadow in the darkness. He suppressed his aura, hiding his presence from the two terrifying entities, Ichor and Maledictus, who were tearing his new home apart, searching for him.

His hands trembled as he reached into the spatial pouch at his waist. He pulled out a small black box.

It was the last gift from his brother, Suba, the first Zerg to break the barrier between multiverses.

He opened it. Inside lay a simple letter, written in the chittering script of their people.

'Dear Brother, if you are reading this, I am dead. I wish for you to live happily. Do not think of revenge… our race is not strong enough. Not yet. The only thing I can help you with is this box…'

'Say 'Open' my brother.'

"O-Open?" Beru whispered, his voice cracking, tears welling in his eyes.

The box shuddered. It didn't open; it transformed. It morphed, twisting and reshaping itself into something Beru recognized with a jolt of grief.

"You are crazy, Suba," Beru murmured, touching the object.

It was a tail. Suba's tail. A body part of his brother, morphed into this object, preserved for this very moment.

It wiggled slightly, emitting a pulse of unique energy that resonated with Beru's antennae.

A final message, stored within the flesh, echoed in Beru's mind. 'Live long, my brother, my king. Devour this. Gain my talent. Break that barrier. Find your… FATE.'

Tears streamed down Beru's face. He didn't hesitate. He began to eat.

He devoured the tail of his brother, each bite a promise of vengeance, each swallow a vow of survival.

His body began to radiate an otherworldly light. He felt the familiar rush of his Devourer talent activating.

But this talent, a downgraded echo of an ancient power, usually had only a fifty percent chance of success.

He prayed to no god, for his gods were dead. He prayed to his brother, he prayed for him to help him one more time, one last time.

And it worked.

He felt a shift in his very DNA. A new, powerful sensation uncoiled at the base of his spine.

He sat cross-legged in the space, focusing inward. A tail, identical to his brother's, grew from his back, shimmering with a strange, violet light. He could feel it; the power to break space itself.

Beru stood. His grief hardened into a sharp resolve. He focused on the tail, watching it glow brighter and brighter. He whipped it forward.

CRACK!!

The barrier of the multiverse, a wall that separated realities, splintered like glass. A web of cracks spread outward, and with a second, furious smash, a gaping hole was torn open, revealing the chaotic void between multiverses.

"Thank you, Brother," Beru whispered, stepping toward the rift. "I will find vengeance for you and father's death. When I am strong enough to devour the demon lords themselves… I will return, the pain they have inflicted, i will return it thousand of times more."

He walked through the hole, leaving his home behind, just as the barrier began to heal, sealing his escape.

He was alone in the true void now. A prince without a kingdom, a commander without an army, heading into the unknown to find a power that could kill a Demon Lord.

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