Sven stood at the edge of the world, admiring the giant crack in space, the so-called "Rift". Behind him lay dozens of figures - guardians perhaps - some dead, most of them drained of energy and unconscious. One of them summoned their last remaining energies, only to desperately crawl closer to the mysterious man.
He muttered in a weak voice, "Who are you? What...what do you want with the Rift?"
Sven turned his head slightly, only showing a part of his face and his piercing eyes. Everything else was concealed by his hood. The man, or whatever he was, had a pale and scarred skin. He was taller than the average human, and considerably powerful. Even though at his weakest state, he still emitted a faint energy, which Sven thought only his kind could detect.
"I want whatever's on the other side of it," Sven replied. His voice sounded ambitious, yet something told the pale man that he would succeed.
"You won't find anything interesting there."
"Really? I thought the mighty, 'Lord Zamorak' was here. In that case, I can destroy this portal and-"
"No!" The man cried. Sven faced away from the pale man, showing only his hood as he hid an amused smile. Sven wasn't the type of person that enjoyed hearing desperate pleas, however he was entertained by this. Only minutes ago, the man was mocking and amused at him, telling him that he was foolish to come alone. And now, who's the amused one?
"Even if you close the portal, our lord will find a way into this world!"
"In that case, I'll ensure that he'll never cross worlds and realms ever again."
The man opened his mouth to protest, but Sven had already stepped into the portal. He whimpered softly, and buried his head on the hard ground. The man never rose again.
On the other side was a chaotic place. Anyone who entered this place would have either died by the intense magical pressure on the mind, or went insane. One needs a special protection in order to step in this world. However, it was one thing Sven did not need.
It was an almost empty plane, but on the horizon, one could see the entrances to many worlds. He scanned each of them, but they were too many to count. His eyes landed on a large, red figure. It was almost as tall as a tower, and wore red robes that flowed on the invisible floor of the space-like world. Looking further up, he could see a faint light on what seems to be the figure's chest. A wound, the wound of a god.
"Useless guardians." The figure muttered. His voice was powerful and deep. "I have to praise you, mortal, for reaching this place unharmed."
Sven raised his hood, revealing his dark gold hair. "Zamorak, isn't it?"
The god shrunk slowly, going from the size of a tower...to a house...and then to a mortal. He was still taller than most humans, like the pale man outside.
"Tell me...what is it that you desire?" Zamorak asked.
"Hmm, it's more of a proposal," Sven took out a magic-imbued blade. It was slightly larger than a dagger, was made of a crimson metal, and emitted a blue aura. Zamorak tensed, but then suddenly relaxed. This is not a Saradominist...but why does he possess a weapon blessed by a god?
"It's quite simple, really. I want you to back down from this war."
Zamorak laughed loudly, his voice echoing in the empty plane. "And what will happen if I don't, hmm?" His tone was clearly mocking Sven.
"Then I shall kill you."
"Hah! Are you out of your mind? Perhaps the Rift has done its job on you..." Zamorak further mocked him. "You fought your way like a warrior here, and yet your ideals are that of a child. Which god do you fight for?"
Sven skipped the question. "So, which is it?"
"Oh, my choice?" Zamorak started imitating Sven's voice, "It's simple, really. Either you leave this place and start serving me, or you die by my hand."
Sven knew what he meant already. There was no need for the god to say it directly to him. "Alright then. This won't take long."
He plunged the blade into Zamorak's chest. However, being a god, it merely passed through him. Zamorak smirked behind his hood. Sven stepped closer to Zamorak, whispering, "Oh, and you asked? I serve no god."
He drew the blade, and it was then that Zamorak felt it. The blade's magical properties drained his powers. It was not intended to harm physically. The god shrunk, then suddenly grew big, and shrunk again. He roared, causing the plane to shake. He fell to the ground, writhing in pain. The massive amounts of energy being released was spread all over the plane, some reaching the other realms. But Zamorak could not stop it, nothing he did would save him.
"Farewell, Zamorak." Sven muttered as he stepped out of the Rift back to Gielinor.
Hey guys, Dragoz here! This is my first work here. Sorry if this chapter took long. I had exams when I started writing this.
I hope it wasn't too much that the story started with a god dying(sorry to all the Zammy fans there). I also hope that I got the Rift correct, because I imagined it as a rift in space, literally.
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, feel free to leave a review!