In the deepest, uncharted depths of an Unknown Realm, the very laws of time and space completely ceased to exist.

​Two colossal figures sat opposite each other, suspended over a massive, glowing grid that stretched across the void like a celestial chessboard.

​However, the pieces positioned across the glowing squares were not carved from stone or metal. They were real, living beings. Kings, Queens, Rooks, Bishops, Knights, and Pawns were all actual Beyonders, ferocious monsters, and mortal monarchs forcefully plucked from countless different universes.

​They were all violently fighting, bleeding, and dying under the absolute command of these two cosmic entities.

​"Knight to E4," Eragon spoke, making the surrounding galaxy clusters to tremble.

He was draped in a blinding, pure white radiance, obscuring his facial features entirely.

​Down on the board, a heavily armored giant wielding a massive battleaxe let out a tortured, agonized roar.

Invisible threads of cosmic mana violently seized his limbs, forcing him to leap across the grid.

Thud!

He landed with a heavy, crushing thud on a glowing square, directly in front of a terrified elven swordswoman acting as a Pawn.

​The giant did not want to attack, but his body moved entirely on its own.

Slash!

With a brutal, sweeping strike, he cleaved the elven woman in half.

​[ System Notice: White Knight has eliminated Black Pawn. ]

​The second figure, Drogon, had thoughtful look on his shadowy features. His form was composed of abyssal darkness.

​"A very aggressive opening, Eragon. You are usually much more conservative with your heavy hitters. Are you perhaps feeling anxious?"

Eragon replied, "I do not feel anxiety, Drogon. But the cosmic balance is actively changing. That little fella is finally making some waves in this pond."

​"HA HA.." Drogon smiled in amusement.

​"Bishop to C5."

​Following the move, the warlock cloaked in dark crimson robes levitated forward on the board and unleashed a massive torrent of hellfire upon two of Eragon’s heavily fortified Rooks.

​The living pieces screamed in sheer agony as their armor melted directly into their flesh.

​"I told you Neo had potential. And I am sure he would not betray your legacy like these traitorous insects. One day, he will conquer that universe for you."

​Eragon shook his head. "You have too high hopes for him, Drogon. Other Godkings have placed their pieces as well. When they clash, it definitely will not be so easy."

​Drogon still looked unconvinced.

​"Have you seen that unique ability of his?" he asked.

​Eragon gave a nod.

​"Yes, the ability to merge things. It is indeed quite an anomaly. However, other Candidates have quite interesting abilities as well. Like that little lass from the Moon Lineage. She possesses the Secret Knowledge of the Ancients. Using that, she is rising like a predatory tide."

​"But I heard that girl and Neo were recently a couple... Their breakup was a loss. But if you can stitch their fate threads, it will only be beneficial for you," Drogon added.

​Eragon sighed. He knew that too. But if he started playing with the fates of Dominators, he would receive a severe backlash.

​Seeing through Eragon’s worries, Drogon suggested with an eerie smile,

"I can divert the Heavenly Backlash somewhere else. You know what my insidious powers can do, right?"

Eragon thought for a long time. All of a sudden, he stood up.

​"Very well. If the path to victory is paved with risks, I shall not be the one to stall our progress."

​Drogon’s eerie, toothy grin widened. "I knew you’d see my vision, Eragon.

He also stood up.

Then with a wave of his hand, the battlefield of living pieces dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the infinite silent void.

​They moved as one toward the periphery of the Unknown Realm, where the fabric of reality frayed into a shimmering, luminescent ribbon.

This was the River of Fate, a torrent of raw, unformed destiny that flowed through the cracks of all dimensions. It hummed with the voices of trillions of souls, a constant, roaring sound that would have driven any lesser god to immediate madness.

​The river was a volatile golden expanse.

All hose brilliant threads represented the life paths of every significant being in the cosmos.

​Eragon knelt at the bank of the river, his hands hovering over the roiling golden mist.

He closed his eyes, his mind expanding across the vastness of the universe until he found the two threads he sought: one was vibrant burning silver belonging to Myria Noctivale, and the other, a multicoloured roaring dragon, belonging to Neo Godson.

​They were drifting apart, their destinies diverging into cold, hollow trajectories of bitterness and war.

​"The resonance is weak," Eragon muttered, his brow furrowing as he felt the intense pressure of the universe pushing back against his intrusion.

The air around them began to crackle with blue lightning.

RUMBLE!

The backlash was beginning; the heavens were reacting to his attempt to rewrite the fate. Even if its a miniscule tweak.

​Drogon then stepped forward. His darkness aura expanded until it draped over the river like a suffocating shroud.

​"Do not flinch, Eragon. I have redirected the karmic weight of your meddling toward the Saint Lands. Let the chaos they have sown consume them even faster."

​With a sickening, wet sound, Drogon’s insidious power tore a hole in the fabric of the immediate reality, funneling the divine retribution away from Eragon and toward the Saint Lands, where Solar Saint stayed.

​Freed from the immediate threat of the backlash, Eragon plunged his hands deep into the golden currents of the river.

​"Merge," Eragon commanded domineeringly.

​He grabbed the silver thread and the white thread, pulling them together with a force that made the entire River of Fate shudder.

He began to weave them, stitching the ragged ends of their broken relationship with the cold precision of a master architect. It was a taxing, agonizing process. Beads of glowing, starlight sweat formed on his forehead as he fought the resistance of the individual wills of the two Dominators.

​Slowly, the threads began to pulse in unison, the silver and white weaving into a complex, unbreakable braid of destiny.

​At last Eragon pulled his hands back, his chest heaving with exertion. The river flowed again.

​"It is done. Their fates are linked. Whether it leads to love or a total destruction of one another, only time will tell."

Drogon smiled creepily,

​"Oh, it will be quite the spectacle. The Moon Lineage will not know what hit them when their Champion suddenly finds her heart aligned with a monster who is actively dominating the galaxy."

​