Terra Aeterna: The Rise of Humanity's War Machine

Several RDA crew members begin to approach, intending to carry Jack Sully's half-conscious, blood-soaked body. But before any of them can touch him, Kenthelion's voice cuts through the silence—calm, yet sharp enough to freeze them in their tracks.

> Kenthelion:

"Jack, you've already lost... even before I don this armor of power again."

As he speaks, Kenthelion straps the final piece of his golden armor onto his body—a symbol of both grandeur and the fear that hangs over the battlefield.

> Kenthelion:

"Your defeat isn't due to your weakness, Jack. It's because of your hatred for us, for humanity... and your blind faith in what you call Eywa. A false god who couldn't even protect your own children.

If only you had surrendered when I first landed... none of this would have happened. Such a pity."

He glances aside. His golden eyes gleam sharply, reflecting the flames and ruin around them.

A hush falls over the deck. The salty coastal wind carries ash and dust from the battlefield as Jack's body is dragged away. Though nearly unconscious, his gaze remains fixed on Kenthelion—burning with furious anger.

Kenthelion slowly lifts his chin, as if awaiting something.

Suddenly, the sky darkens.

Thunder rumbles behind rolling black clouds, and a savage storm begins to form. A swirling energy appears on the horizon—Eywa's will finally intervening.

> Kenthelion:

"Everyone, stand clear! I will face this myself!"

With a single gesture, he cleaves through the raging winds around the ship. The waves, once furious, part as if cowering before the power he radiates.

Without hesitation, Kenthelion steps forward. Light from his Aetherion aura concentrates beneath his feet. He descends into the sea... and walks on the water—challenging the storm sent by Eywa.

Amid lightning and wild winds, Kenthelion offers a small, confident smile. In his mind, he whispers:

> Kenthelion (to himself):

"Heh... so I really can replicate that walking-on-water technique. Who would've thought chakra theory from some anime could align with Aetherion. Fascinating."

Eywa, in a desperate effort to halt Kenthelion's advance, conjures a massive storm engulfing the surrounding ocean. Relentless lightning, towering waves, air pressure nearly shatters the sensors of the RDA ships.

But from Kenthelion's perspective, it's merely... minor chaos.

> Kenthelion:

"So this is the limit of the planet's will? A so-called god... like this?"

Under normal circumstances, such a storm might sink an entire fleet. But for an Omega-level Psyker, it's just a mild inconvenience.

Kenthelion raises his right hand slowly. In his palm, vast Aetherion energy gathers. It vibrates, forming a swirling orb of blue-gold light that exerts immense pressure, causing the surrounding seawater to recede momentarily.

In an instant, he thrusts his fist forward.

"WHUUUM!"

The Aetherion shockwave from that punch strikes the heart of the storm. A thunderous boom follows, and in a flash, the vortex shatters—dissolving into fragments of wind and vapor. The darkened sky brightens again, and the churning sea calms... as though nothing had ever disturbed it.

> Kenthelion:

"False god... You don't deserve to be called a high entity!"

"With power like this, you shouldn't dare claim a place among us!"

His voice is mocking, cold, and scornful. Those words echo as if slapping Eywa's hidden presence behind the planet's will.

But before silence can settle, the sea roils again.

Winds and waves rise, this time in a coordinated formation—encircling Kenthelion from every direction like a living net trying to entrap him. Simultaneously, thousands of sea creatures surge from the depths. They come in myriad forms: colossal fish, ancient sea serpents, even semi-transparent beings resembling spirits.

"Explosion! Explosion! Explosion!"

The next wave of assaults begins—brutal, wild, and desperate.

Yet Kenthelion does not move.

From his body, black pillars of Aetherion erupt toward the sky.

Pandora's atmosphere shatters like broken glass, and in the distance, a black sun slowly replaces the golden light that once bathed the planet.

But this light is not life-giving—it is a harbinger of void. An alien presence bringing bone-freezing cold and mental pressure that shakes living beings to their core of consciousness.

"Explosion! Explosion! Explosion!"

When Kenthelion witnesses Eywa's next manifestation of energy, he harbors no intention of holding back. Every ounce of Aetherion power within him is unleashed. Countless jets of inky black energy explode from his form, creating a tempest of rampaging power around him.

The black sun now hangs over Pandora's sky, like a divine judgment. Unlike prior natural phenomena, this presence instills profound fear—cold not merely physical, but existential dread, and rage without clear origin.

Aetherion energy flowing from Kenthelion makes the entire planet... tremble.

> Eywa, for the first time since the birth of the planet's will, truly feels fear. She quivers in astonished voice:

"…Who are you...? Are you a god?"

Kenthelion gazes upward; his voice is flat yet resonates more powerfully than Eywa's own.

> Kenthelion:

"I am... only an ordinary human."

"And I refuse to be equated with a lowly creature that calls itself a god."

Ignoring Eywa's further lamentations, Kenthelion lifts his sword—Emperor Sword. Its blade crackles with black energy as if ripping through dimensions, vibrating softly as it contains universe-shattering power.

A single downward slash from the sky.

> "Explosion."

The strike seems simple. Yet when it crashes into the roiling sea—its effect transcends all laws of physics and nature.

Aetherion energy from that slash sweeps everything away. The ocean instantly vaporizes, hissing into superheated steam before vanishing. Every sea creature—from the tiniest to the nameless leviathans—evaporates into atoms, then... ceases to exist.

Eywa cannot speak.

What she witnesses is absolute power, a force never seen in her planet's long history. Even the planet's will cannot fathom it.

That stroke leaves a colossal wound on the planet's surface—a vast fracture splitting the seabed, stretching like black roots piercing through the world's layers. Pandora... will never be the same again.

At this point, Eywa finally understands.

She senses the horrifying source of power in Kenthelion's slash. Not merely physical energy or sorcery, but something more primal and personal—human emotion.

> Eywa:

"Anger... hatred... destruction... vengeance... despair... madness..."

In an instant, her consciousness plunges to the depths of reality, and in silent shock, Eywa whispers to herself:

> Eywa:

"God of Destruction... God of Retribution... End of All Things... Evil Deity... Mara... Mohā..."

She recognizes the pattern of this power. It is not drawn from any world or race. It is the heritage of Mara Apophis, the god of destruction in the deepest myths. And the human before her... he is a divine choice—or more terrifyingly, he is Mara Apophis.

Pandora reacts. Instantly, the planet's will mobilizes entirely. Eywa decides to consolidate all planetary forces—forming a planetary convergence of power to erase this threat completely.

Yet Kenthelion has already moved first.

"Boom, bum, bum, bum, bum..."

Kenthelion's Aetherion energy surges into the ocean depths, then detonates like a collapsing star. In an instant, the seabed is brutally uplifted—as though he rips the bones and blood from the planet itself.

In his mind, Kenthelion murmurs:

> Kenthelion (monologue):

"Insane... it actually works. I only reimagined how Aman'Thul from the Pantheon ripped Y'Shaarj from Azeroth... If that can be done to the Old Gods... then Eywa won't be much different."

Eywa's scream shakes the entire planet's surface. The anguish she feels pierces the atmosphere, crying out in a pain never before experienced in the universe.

Yet amid that despair, Eywa begins to show her resolve.

Natural energy across the planet consolidates, gathering at a single point. Then, from that energy vortex, a giant humanoid figure emerges—the incarnation of Pandora's will itself.

> Kenthelion:

"False god... so this is your true form?"

There is no fear in his gaze. Or rather, any fear was long erased, worn away by his full mastery of Aetherion.

> Eywa:

"I am the incarnation of this planet. I am Pandora, and Pandora is me."

Eywa's voice reverberates, heavy and laced with a soul-piercing weight, like the echo of mountains and seas merged into one.

> Eywa:

"Human... you have angered me. You have desecrated nature itself!"

Her cry shakes the atmosphere, splitting the sky and rocking the oceans. Yet the Aetherion power enveloping Kenthelion remains unfazed.

Kenthelion only laughs—cold, dismissive, and full of conviction.

> Kenthelion:

"Nature? What a joke. Everything in the universe... must bow to humanity."

"And humans... are masters of all things."

> Kenthelion:

"What use is nature against human technology and resolve? We can conquer storms, ignite artificial suns, even forge worlds from the void!"

With those words, both sides move in a dance of destruction.

Blades of Aetherion energy form around Kenthelion, hurtling like multidimensional storms ready to shred reality. On the other side, Eywa raises the seas, conjuring massive whirlpools to answer the assault with the planet's own natural force.

But to Kenthelion, it's merely warm-up.

> Kenthelion:

"Your strikes are full of gaps. You may be a planet, but I have transcended the bounds of ordinary life."

BOOM!

Kenthelion envelops himself in an Aetherion layer, piercing Eywa's natural defenses without hesitation, then strikes the planetary deity's face with absolute force.

Eywa's body is hurled back; her roar echoes like a wounded storm.

> Eywa:

"I am not merely a being. I am Pandora. Pandora is me!"

That cry shakes the air, and in an instant, a faint light coalesces into a second figure—another incarnation, another layer of the planet's consciousness, like a spirit avatar of the world.

> Eywa:

"You cannot kill me... unless you destroy the planet itself!"

Kenthelion falls silent. His brow furrows. In the stillness, he weighs his next move, then murmurs to himself:

> Kenthelion:

"This... is like the concept of the Chaos God from Warhammer. If Eywa truly equals a planet, like Azeroth... then physical death is not enough. I must destroy the concept itself."

Memories surface, scenes from his past life—when he witnessed Sargeras, the Titan, drive his colossal blade into Azeroth in World of Warcraft. He had stood in awe of that scale.

And now, he is that scale.

A cold smile spreads across Kenthelion's face.

> Kenthelion:

"So it appears... If you are this planet, then I only need to annihilate your existential concept, not merely your form."

> Eywa:

"No... Cannot be..."

But it is too late.

Kenthelion channels Aetherion, yet this time his assault targets the metaphysical core of the planet—not its materiality, but the foundation of its very existence. Reality stretches; the sky splits; natural laws crack like broken glass.

> Eywa:

"WRONG!"

But Aetherion power has pierced too deeply. He no longer attacks with worldly strength, but with godlike power that transcends dimensions.

In that instant, Eywa feels... the world around her begins to empty. She, the spirit of Pandora, no longer has a refuge.