DIE
GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG

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In the realm of Hod, The Destiny of Tyr had been watching as chaos and imbalance spread throughout the universe. Led by Tyr, the god of justice and order, they decided to take matters into their own hands to restore harmony to the cosmos.

Using their divine powers, the council resurrected a diverse group of individuals from different corners of the universe, each imbued with unique abilities and skills. Among them were a skilled warrior from the realm of Arom in ancient underground Norway, an archeologist from 19th century England, a wise executioner from the Moon of Saturn and the temple of Enceladus, and a cunning murderer and biker from the shadowed highways of Memphis, Tennessee. Together, under the guidance of The Destiny of Tyr, this resurrected group embarked on a perilous mission to confront the dark forces threatening to plunge the universe into eternal darkness.

The band of misfits made their way to the heart of the chaos, where an ancient evil entity known as The Defiler of Souls awaited them. The Defiler sought to shroud the universe in eternal darkness, feeding on the despair and fear of all living beings. The search for the Götterdämmerung had begun.

Aboard the titan Götterdämmerung, the realm of The Defiler, torture was about to commence. The Defiler’s demons had captured Avat’or,  the Grand leader of the Destiny of Tyr.

“You know where the scum known as The Destiny of Tyr are hidden! Reveal them to me. Your answer will decide your fate,” demanded the Defiler of Souls to his helpless prisoner. “When you look into my eyes what do you see?”

“I see evil, empty eyes full of hate and nothing more.”

Flying into a rage the defiler raked his clawed fingers into the prisoner’s eyes.

Avat’or the leader of The Destiny of Tyr was subjected to the brutality of the bloody torture chamber at the hands of the Defiler of Souls. With his sinister powers and endless thirst for dominance, The Defiler unleashed chaos and frantic unthinkable pain on Avat’or and his bloody fangs ran red with seething anger and hate.

 “Woe unto them who challenge me and the power of my might and strength. Will I show mercy unto those who bend the knee? That makes me tremble with laughter. I intend no mercy for man or beast. Kill them all!” said The Defiler.

“Your sickening babbling is the worst of your tortures. I can bear it no more. Shut your gob and stab me with a hot poker or something,” said Avat’or sarcastically trying to see through the blood in his eyes.

“Your jest will stick in your throat like sand!” said The Defiler as he dragged his clawed hand across his prisoner's face. Wounds opened like springs of bloody water.

“The Destiny of Tyr will find you and destroy you. The longer you torment me the greater the chance they will find you. You cannot hide forever.”

“That is exactly what I had hoped. Destiny will come to me and save me some extra toil,” said The Defiler. “Your hope that you and Destiny can change history to bring it back into balance is a fool’s errand.”

“We will see that the wrongs you have done to disturb the balance of the universe are altered no matter the cost!’ promised Avat’or.

“How do you suggest that will happen? What is your plan? Speak to me about your doctrine?” The Defiler asked ironically, taunting his prisoner. “I have had enough of your talk…reveal the Destiny to me!”

“They do not hide. They seek you because you are the prey!” said Avat’or

The Destiny, led by the courageous and determined Avat'or, stood as the last stronghold of hope against The Defiler's tyranny. Sensing that Avat'or held the key to his downfall, he devised a wicked plan to discover the secrets of their plan to capture and kill him.

In the heart of his sinister fortress perched atop one of the Mountains of Saturn, The Defiler had long awaited Avat’or’s capture. Swiftly his minions ambushed the unsuspecting leader and brought him before their wicked master. His eyes red with rage gleamed through a narrow slit in a helmet forged of iron. Spines protruded from the helmet much like antlers. His face was covered by a mask that left his jaws uncovered. Flames flickered from underneath his chest plate and shimmered from his forearms. The Defiler was regaled with a giant iron wingspan that smoked as if it had been recently forged. 

“Avat’or, reveal to me what you keep in your heart," sneered The Defiler, his voice dripping with bitterness. “If you choose not to surrender your strategies to me, I will snatch the secrets from your heart after I tear it from you. How do you intend to bring about my destruction? Your efforts will bring nothing but pain and blood to you and the entire Destiny of Tyr.  You are indeed a fool.”

Avat'or, refusing to succumb to fear, stared defiantly at his captor. "You will never learn of our plans, because we would all gladly suffer death than to succumb to you. Rake my flesh and even then I will never speak what you wish to hear.”

“I am so relieved to hear you say that. I have given a painful gift to those in the past but I will present you with it today.  It is one of my beloved creations. It is called Death by a Thousand Cuts,” hissed the Defiler. “Others in the eastern world have taken credit for it but it belongs to me.”

It was then that Avat'or realized the true nature of his adversary's desperation. The Defiler, consumed by fear and paranoia, believed that the Destiny of Tyr possessed the means to defeat him. Avat'or's unwavering resilience was a testament to the strength of his cause. “Do what you will,” said Avat’or. “My spirit is ironclad!”