The Immortals of Notoriouslandia
Chapter One: The Rise and Fall
In the heart of a world spun from chaos and raw ambition stood Notoriouslandia, a city that defied all logic. Sky towers scraped the stars, its neon veins pulsed with unending energy, and deep beneath its obsidian streets lay something older than gods and more dangerous than any war—the Gauntlet of Endless Dominion. It was whispered to grant its wearer the ability to bend reality, steal powers, and become an entity unshackled from limits. Many had tried to claim it. All had failed. Until now.
Three beings stood as the city's guardians. Not protectors out of duty, but by sheer power alone, for no force dared challenge them—until he came.
They were called The Immortals.
Arthur, known as The Elemental Warden, bore dominion over the classical forces of nature: fire, water, earth, air, and the unseen elements—lightning, ice, and even void. Wherever he walked, nature shifted to his will. Oceans would part, storms calmed, volcanoes slept when he whispered. He fought like a god of ancient legend, casting torrents of fire from his palms, hurling jagged mountain shards with a flick of his wrist, or encasing enemies in frozen tombs of time-stilled ice.
Beside him stood Technical, a half-flesh, half-machine intellect whose mind was an ever-churning furnace of innovation. Within seconds, he could craft war-machines from discarded junk, assemble battle suits from ash, or forge weapons from shattered light. His body was a fortress of adaptive alloys, rewiring itself with every strike. He never planned for days—he built victory in moments.
And then there was The Third—Lux, though his true name was never spoken aloud. A being whose body moved between the tick of seconds, who could tilt gravity like pouring wine. His touch could unmake time itself, warp space into twisted loops, and his eyes saw constellations not visible to any mortal sky. He was the bridge between flesh and cosmos, and many called him the Astral Reaper.
Together, they were untouchable. They were legend. They were the immortals.
And then came Septiceye.
Born not of flesh, not of thought, but of hatred. A sentient virus of pure malevolence, Septiceye had no true form—only the memory of things he had consumed. He could become anyone, anything. A beast with ten thousand mouths. A child sobbing in an alley. A sword you thought you could trust. Every power used against him was absorbed, understood, and turned inside out. Magic unraveled in his presence. He couldn't be broken. He couldn't be stopped.
And all he wanted was the Gauntlet.
He didn't march on Notoriouslandia.
He bled into it.
It began with a whisper—a guard who wasn't quite himself. Then a judge who ruled with inhuman malice. Then whole districts fell silent. Shadows turned on their masters. Buildings sprouted tentacles of tech-flesh. The city began to rot from the inside, like an apple still gleaming on the outside.
Arthur was the first to confront him beneath the Obsidian Dome. Firestorms and hurricanes raged within the glass tomb as elemental fury tried to purge the shapeshifter. But Septiceye wore Arthur's own power like a second skin. The fight lasted six days, and ended with Arthur thrown into the Earth's mantle, sealed in living magma—not dead, but buried, powerless, forever burning.
Technical stood next. He turned the city itself into a weapon—drones of ash and steel, towers transformed into anti-matter cannons, the sky itself rewritten with code. But Septiceye understood. He became machine. Outbuilt Technical. Reprogrammed his thoughts mid-battle. When Technical realized the failure, his body split apart, his brain still ticking, trapped in a mechanical prison of his own design.
Lux tried to undo time itself. He fractured the city into seven overlapping realities. He hurled stars down like knives. Space bent into mazes of unending doom. But Septiceye adapted. Each reality only gave him new shapes to consume. Lux fled to the astral plane, only to find Septiceye already there—wearing the skin of a black hole. With a smile made of moons, Septiceye tore his body across timelines, trapping Lux in an eternal collapse loop where he would die and be reborn… over and over… screaming in silence.
The Immortals had fallen.
Notoriouslandia darkened.
And Septiceye's voice echoed in every corner of the city:
"You called them gods.But gods die.I am what comes after."
Beneath the dead city's heart, the Gauntlet pulsed—waiting.
Waiting for the one who no longer needed it… but would take it anyway.