Mahoraga dreamt of a kingdom.
It was a peaceful and vast one which stretched across the endless golden dunes, small cottages spread across its area, centred around a symmetrical rectangular palace made of polished black marble.
The citizens weren't ordinary people, instead they were sentient black shadows with crimson eyes — unable to enter the Shadow Realm, they created a dwelling in this isolated Realm — the Hell of Ariel, or what would later be known as the Nightmare Desert.
The people lived contently, instead of a monetary system, they helped each other because they could, most of the services being free and done out of simple goodwill, a quiet understanding binding them together in place of laws or currency.
There was no hunger, no greed, no crime — only a society built out on trust, where each shadow played its part without question. They built, they mended, they guided… not because they had to, but because it was natural.
At the center of it all stood the palace.
It was not grand in the way of conquerors — no towering spires, no ostentatious displays of power because the palace's seat did not represent a ruler or a king but a leader.
Suddenly the peaceful scene shattered — and instead was replaced by ruin. The once halcyon days were now a distant memory, swallowed by the roar of war.
The cottages were gone.
Where laughter and quiet purpose had once lingered, only shattered remnants remained — broken walls half-buried in blackened sand. The shadows that had once walked those paths now scattered in all directions, their crimson eyes flickering wildly as the first true terror they had ever known took hold.
And yet they gathered together, assembling as one, taking up arms to defend their peaceful dwelling.
Their empire was coveted by their enemies for their sheer volume and power — the Daemons fought to extinguish them so that Shadow God's Domain wouldn't grow while the Gods tried to enslave and protect them.
And thus, the three way deadlock was born.
Rime and Shadow God had fought each other to a stand-still and when their clash finally broke, it left neither victorious.
Neither had won.
Both had been wounded too deeply to continue.
And so, they vanished from the battlefield — waiting until the true war broke out to intervene.
Since Eurys had slain the War God's Avatar, its new Avatar was too young and too weak to participate. But this did not mean that the battle shifted to the Daemon's side, since Oblivion had mysteriously disappeared before the war began.
Their numbers were evenly matched.
The Freehold of the Lost — what the Empire called themselves stood alone and fought both sides by themselves — engaging in a fight with powers far stronger than them.
Their battlefields were divided across their enormous empire, fighting on all sides.
To the north, they faced the undead shadows of the Shadow God and the blazing infernal creatures of the Sun God who thrived in this Desert. To the south, they went up against the stone and inanimate army of Nether. To the east, the enigmatic and horrendous Nephilim alongside the human forces of the Daemon Legion. And to the west came the harrowing, ancient, mindless beasts and creatures with a bone to pick against the Divine Host.
That was the side Mahoraga found himself.
And of course, he was thrown straight into the battlefield.
Mahoraga normally didn't feel much emotion towards the Spell. Heck you could say that he never showed emotion in most situations. But unlike most times, this time he was truly pissed.
Couldn't I have at least found myself in the heart of the Freehold? he thought with an ounce of anger.
What was even worse was that the body he was given was completely alien to him! It was a humanoid body, sure. But that didn't mean it was a good humanoid body.
Mahoraga's sight was all but messed up. From his face extended four delicate, wing-like structures — not for flight, but perception. He did not see in the conventional sense, instead his fragile wings were sensitive to the vibrations in the air — allowing him to make out objects through the disturbance they caused. Sound was carried through those same currents, turning his wings into both ears and eyes.
His body was quite bulky too, with him having a very neck from which a tail-like appendage extended; its purpose? He had no clue!
What… is going on… damn it!
Mahoraga was sprawled on the ground, his strange wings trembling violently as the world crashed into him all at once. Every vibration, every movement, every disturbance flooded his brain simultaneously.
Don't think. Thinking will only make things worse. This thing has to have instincts… you now have them, too.
Mahoraga cleared his mind and let himself relax, entering a state of serenity as he let himself go. And soon, his instincts did in fact, take over.
As soon as Mahoraga stopped thinking about sight and sound. His brain stopped grasping every disturbance in the air and instead focused on the bigger vibrations, one that made a drop in the water.
Suddenly, his mind was clear and not so noisy anymore.
Oh, thank gods…
Mahoraga did not move for a few minutes, catching his breath, and then tried to understand what type of a vessel, exactly, had the Spell chosen for him.
But lying defenseless on a battlefield wasn't exactly a bright idea. A beautiful voice suddenly sounded above him, filled with curiosity and amusement.
"What a strange thing you are," the voice said hungrily, "Ah! It wounds me that I wasn't the one to kill your body first… It seems I'll have to settle for your shadow instead."
Mahoraga opened his eyes, or rather flapped his wings and turned his head swiftly to the direction of the voice.
Through the subtle currents brushing against his wings, Mahoraga mapped the figure in an instant — a humanoid shape rooted deep into the ground, its lower half splayed outward like the roots of a tree. Its upper body expanded outwards like branches but remained rigid and unmoving compared to the rest.
And then — a sharp rupture tore through the air.
Mahoraga felt it before it arrived. A violent spike in the currents, something thin, dense, and impossibly quick cutting straight toward him.
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A/N - So? Is the Nightmare not peak? Drop your ideas on how Mahoraga is gonna beat 8 Divine Being XD. Let's hit 180 powerstones by tomorrow please, so that I can see people didn't abandon the story while I was planning the Nightmare lol.
On another note, I started an Invincible x JJK fic. Where someone with Sukuna's powers finds himself in Invincible, it's going to be meta as fuck so if you guys don't like it, don't complain. First chapter of that will probably come out in a few minutes.