Epic Short Story | Oath of the Abyss

After the twilight of the gods, the world sank into eternal night. 'Gray Shadow,' a descendant of the great wolf Fenrir, stood at the edge of the abyss, the boiling void churning beneath its paws. It had been hungry for nine hundred years, the fire in its belly enough to consume stars. "Are you sure about this?" a whisper echoed from the depths, the voice of the imprisoned Loki, like the grinding of rusted chains. Gray Shadow didn't turn back. "The gods are dead, the world tree has withered, even time itself is rotting. What else do I have to lose?" "Your sanity." Loki laughed, the sound stirring giant waves in the abyss. "Leap in, and you'll become pure destruction. No form, no name, just endless hunger." Gray Shadow paused. It remembered the day its father, Fenrir, was betrayed by the gods and pierced through the throat with a sword. It was young then, hiding deep in the forest, watching its father's blood stain the entire land. "Those gods," Gray Shadow growled, "they treated my father with lies and chains. And now they are dead, leaving behind a broken world." "So you seek revenge?" "No." The chaos swirling in the abyss reflected in Gray Shadow's eyes. "I will rewrite everything." It took a step forward. The void immediately seized its claws, like thousands of knives cutting at once. "You'll regret this!" Loki shouted. Gray Shadow could no longer hear. Its form was dissolving, its fur turning to stardust, its bones to lightning. Pain surged like a tide, but it gritted its teeth—no, it no longer had teeth. In the last moment before consciousness faded, Gray Shadow saw everything: the gods of the past, the ruins of the future.