Demonic Wargod

Sebastian, a 17 years old boy sat alone in his dimly lit study room, surrounded by stacks of paper and his thoughts weighed down by grief of growing up in a poor family. The room echoed with the silence of unspoken words and unfinished sentences. Determination flickered in his teary green eyes as he clutched the pen, the instrument of his escape from reality.

Outside, a storm raged, its angry gusts rattling the windows and lashing against the house but Sebastian was oblivious to the chaos. He had barricaded himself within the walls of his mind, seeking solace in the creation of a world that existed only on paper.

His fingers trembled as they caressed the crisp, white pages before him. The book, his book, lay open, its words waiting to be woven into life. But as Sebastian dipped his pen into the inkwell, he felt a peculiar sensation—a faint hum, like the reverberation of an otherworldly energy echoes throughout the room.

Startled, Sebastian glanced at the book. Its pages shimmered with an ethereal golden glow, casting an eerie but majestic light upon the room. He blinked, unsure if his tired eyes were deceiving him. Yet, the pulsating vibrations beneath his fingertips confirmed the impossible—the book was alive.

A voice filled with arrogance whispered from within the pages, soft and haunting. "Sebastian, my creator," it said, its words both a question and a statement. Sebastian's heart quickened, his breath catching in his throat. "Who are you?" he managed to utter, his voice barely audible.

A figure emerged from the book's depths, gradually materializing before him. It was Emperor Roselle, a character he had crafted, now standing tall and resolute in the study. Sebastian's mind reeled with disbelief, his perception of reality unraveling like a threadbare tapestry.

"Your creation, but not your servant," Emperor Roselle replied, his voice tinged with an enigmatic mixture of pride and defiance. "You may have given me life, but I am not bound to your will, you must earn my respect."

Sebastian's hands trembled, the pen slipping from his grasp and clattering onto the floor. Questions tumbled in his mind, his carefully constructed narrative collapsing under the weight of this unexpected revelation. Who was he to dictate the actions and destiny of these characters? Were they mere extensions of his imagination, or did they possess a will of their own?

As the storm outside intensified, Sebastian found himself caught in a tempest of emotions. Doubt, fear, and a strange exhilaration danced within him. The book, his once-safe haven, had become a portal into a world beyond his control.

"I never meant for this to happen," Sebastian murmured, his voice filled with remorse. "I merely wanted to escape my pain, to tell a story. But now... I am no longer sure who holds the pen."

The room fell silent, the characters in the book watching him with penetrating gazes. Sebastian realized that he had crossed a threshold, stepping into a realm where the line between creator and creation blurred. The consequences of his literary ambitions had spiraled beyond his imagination.

With a heavy heart, he reached for the book, closing its pages gently. The glow faded, leaving behind a faint imprint of its presence. Sebastian knew that he could never return to the blissful ignorance of his former writing sessions. From now on, the characters would challenge him, confront him, and demand autonomy. And he would have to find the strength to navigate the unpredictable path they carved, together or apart.

And so, in the midst of the story Sebastian wish to rewrite his story a story that would test the boundaries of his creativity and reshape his understanding of the power and responsibility that comes with being a creator.

But will his characters let him?

Boom!

An otherworldly presence descend into the room again and shrouded everything in purple light.

"Sebastian my creator. For you to truly be consider 'our' creator. You must prove it and so thou shalt join the battle in a realm once created by you but have been morphed by us. But you wouldn't have memories regarding it till you reach advance stage."

Following those words, Sebastian lost conscious. His soul flew out of his body and slipped into the book, his book. Filled with his creations.

Sebastian might not survive since he knew, he build that multi universe and filled it with danger at every turn.

For he knows, he merge elements from lot of worlds and lot more to achieve the most deadliest world.