Chapter 1: The Forgotten Name in the Void
Before the void.
Before the silence.
Before the unending black.
He was a man. A name. A will.
And the world trembled beneath his footsteps.
No one spoke of him now, because the universe could not remember what it feared to name. Before the veil between realities was ripped asunder, before his soul was unmade, before he fell — he was something more.
They called him The Sovereign Devourer. A tyrant, a conqueror, a being whose mere gaze shattered kingdoms, whose laugh heralded the end of ages. His dominion stretched across galaxies, dimensions, and even over the fates of those who dared to whisper rebellion. A higher-dimensional entity, unbound by the petty squabbles of lower beings.
He was no mortal. No man of flesh and frailty.
He was power incarnate.
A creature born from chaos and war, his name was a war cry, a curse, a promise.
And yet, for all his might — death came.
Not in the clash of armies. Not in the betrayal of his court.
But in the silence of his own arrogance.
A higher force, one he had refused to acknowledge in his blasphemous pride, descended upon him like an avalanche of inevitability. The Game Master.
An ancient presence that spoke in the language of time itself. A being that moved pieces across a cosmic board where the stakes were existence itself. The Sovereign Devourer, in all his boundless malice, had merely been a pawn.
The Game Master struck.
And the world wept.
And the Sovereign died.
Or so the fools believed.
---
The void was a place without time, without form, without memory. It gnawed at the mind, stripping away identity, desire, even hatred. The Sovereign's soul drifted endlessly, a formless wisp amid an ocean of nothing.
A thousand years. A million. A billion. Time lost all meaning.
And in the end — there was only hunger.
Not for food. Not for power.
But for destruction.
The last ember of his will refused to fade. And it festered.
Without a name, without a face, it craved chaos, craved carnage, craved the sound of universes breaking beneath its touch. All else had withered.
Until a voice called.
Not a whisper. Not a plea.
A command.
A titanic voice, ancient and terrible, its mere words reshaping the endless dark.
"Come forth, Forgotten One. You shall kneel before me."
And for the first time in eons — there was direction.
He drifted toward the voice. A massive, coiling presence of emerald scales and eyes like dying suns awaited him. The Dragon God. Ruler of one of the thousand higher realms. An architect of reality in his own right.
"I see the remnants of what once defied the heavens," the Dragon God rumbled, scales shimmering like galaxies. "You are mine now."
There was no answer. The soul had no words, no name, no memory — only hunger.
"Very well. I care not what you were. I care only what you shall become. The Game Master has begun anew. A world of titanic beasts, gods of war, and devils of ruin. You, nameless one, shall be my piece upon the board."
The Dragon God's maw opened, a portal of light and madness.
And the soul was cast through.
---
When consciousness returned, it was not in the body of a man.
Not in the form of a god, or a king.
But something primal.
Scales of bark and ancient wood.
Limbs like towering branches.
A tail that crushed stone and earth beneath it.
Eyes like black voids, hungry and mad.
A Wood Dragon.
Born into a savage world a billion times the size of Earth, where continents were the size of solar systems and the skies teemed with creatures older than stars.
And in that moment — something cracked.
A fragment of what he once was awakened. The instant his soul latched onto the body, a pulse of higher-dimensional energy surged forth.
The laws of the world buckled.
And a voice spoke within.
[Evolution System Activated.]
[Host recognized: Higher-Dimensional Authority. System Adapted.]
[Objective: Rise. Consume. Dominate.]
The newly reborn dragon roared — a sound that shattered mountains and turned oceans to vapor.
And within his mind, the hunger swelled.
The void had forged him into something new.
No longer bound by mortal trappings. No longer seeking wealth, companionship, or foolish romance.
Only dominion.
Only destruction.
Only the promise that all would kneel — gods, devils, beasts, worlds.
And far beyond, in the higher planes, the Game Master smiled.
Another piece moved.
Another challenger entered the field.
Would he rise where countless others fell?
Or would he too be another broken pawn in a game beyond comprehension?
Time would tell.
But for now — the Wood Dragon lifted his colossal head, feeling the earth tremble in fear.
And for the first time in eons, a name formed upon his lips.
Not the name of the past.
But a name of ruin.
"Malvark."