At last earth was alive with celebration, a collective joy that pulsed across the globe. Cities were filled with music, laughter, and unity, its people basking in the victory that had come after so much sacrifice. The fires of war had been extinguished, the Agrah'Tari were no more, and for the first time in years, peace seemed to reign. It was a time of hope, of rebuilding, of renewal.

  Yet, amidst the revelry, GōkRahGōr stood alone. Though the world had returned to life, he couldn't shake the feeling of confusion that gnawed at him. His eyes wandered across the bustling streets of Grakha, where citizens celebrated as though nothing had ever happened. The buildings rumbled with the hum of machinery, the city's heart slowly starting to beat once more. The jungle was quiet, the rivers flowing gently once again, but something about it all felt unfinished, unresolved. The weight on his shoulders hadn't lifted. The battle for Earth had been won, but for GōkRahGōr, the real fight was just beginning.

  The branch that those figure had left pulsed softly in his hand, its light faint but undeniable. GōkRahGōr's thoughts were consumed by it. Every time he came near his father's vault, the glow of the branch seemed to grow stronger. His instincts tugged at him. What was this strange power? Why did it feel so important, so connected to him?

  Unable to ignore the pull, GōkRahGōr stood before the vault, its massive stone doors still sealed. The memories of his father flooded his mind, the promises made, the hopes for the future. But something had changed. He had seen something in that light, something beyond the wars, beyond the politics, beyond the victory.

  His hand tightened around the branch. He needed to know. He needed answers.

  With a sudden surge of frustration, GōkRahGōr slammed his fists into the vault doors, a primal roar escaping his throat. The doors groaned and creaked, and with a crack that echoed through the hall, they gave way. The vault was open.

  And there, standing within the vault, was a tree. A living, glowing tree. The air hummed with energy, the very earth seemed to breathe with it. His mind raced. Could it be? Could this really be the World Tree? The legendary tree that his father had protected, that had been spoken of in hushed whispers?

  No. It couldn't be. This was impossible.

  He approached the tree, his heart racing, every fiber of his being drawn to it. The branch in his hand seemed to pulse harder, brighter, in rhythm with the tree's glow. His breath caught in his throat as the world around him seemed to narrow, focused solely on this moment. And then, from the shadows of the vault, a figure materialized.

  It was tall, androgynous, and cloaked in shadow. Its form seemed to twist and shimmer, a being composed of nothing but darkness. Its eyes glowed with a strange, ancient power.

  "Rejoice, child," the figure said, its voice cold and unwavering. "What is your intention?"

  GōkRahGōr's throat tightened. His mind was overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the figure. He clenched his jaw and spoke with resolve, though his voice trembled. "I seek the truth. Who are you?"

  The shadowy figure's lips curled into something like a smile. "I am Syth, the sole protector of the World Tree. And you, child, are here to seek the truth. But tell me... can you truly comprehend it?"

  The words hit GōkRahGōr like a storm, and for a moment, his thoughts scattered. But he stepped forward, every instinct pushing him to come closer to the glowing tree.

  With every step he took, Syth's gaze grew colder. The shadowy figure raised its scythe, the weapon glinting with cosmic energy, and held it close to GōkRahGōr's neck. "You, weakling, have no right to enter. No right to make a wish," Syth hissed. "Return when you are stronger, ape."

  GōkRahGōr's hand gripped the branch tighter. He could feel its energy coursing through him. Without thinking, he raised it between them, showing it to Syth.

  The figure faltered, its dark eyes widening as the scythe began to dim and disintegrate in the air. Syth's expression shifted. A flicker of understanding passed through its cold, ethereal form. There was no denying the power in GōkRahGōr's hand. The branch, the connection between him and the tree, was more than just an artifact. It was a key, and GōkRahGōr was its rightful bearer.

  Syth bowed its head in recognition, stepping aside. "So be it, child," the figure said softly. "Enter. But know this: the truth you seek is not a gift. It is a burden."

  GōkRahGōr stood before the tree, the air thick with energy. He extended his hand toward its glowing trunk, his fingers trembling as they made contact. The world around him seemed to shudder, as though the earth itself held its breath.

  In that moment, everything shifted.

  The tree responded, its light expanding outward, enveloping GōkRahGōr. His mind, his body, his very soul, were flooded with visions. Memories not his own. Futures that could be. Lives that had been lost. A connection to something vast, infinite, timeless.

  The truth of the World Tree unfurled before him, a truth that was both beautiful and terrifying. The history of the world, the cosmos, and his people. The price of survival. The cost of wisdom.

  He fell to his knees, gasping for air as the weight of it all pressed down on him. But through it all, a strange peace settled in his heart.

  He understood now. He understood his role. The truth had been revealed to him, not for glory, but for responsibility.

  As the light of the World Tree brighten, GōkRahGōr stood once more.

  A sudden energy take him somewhere, somewhere familiar.

  "Familiar to you of course, readers" ?? said

  GōkRahGōr stepped forward, his senses overwhelmed by the strange, chaotic beauty of the Center of All. Neon lights flickered in languages he couldn't read, casting jagged reflections on the obsidian streets. The air pulsed with voices, some whispering, some roaring with laughter, some speaking in words that made his head hurt just by hearing them. Creatures of all kinds filled the space, from towering, multi-limbed titans to beings so thin they looked like living skeletons. The entire place had the energy of a lawless casino, where gods, monsters, and things in between gathered to gamble, trade, kill or simply exist outside the bounds of their home universes.

  As he wandered, still clutching the glowing branch The figures had left behind, a figure stepped into his path. A tall man, radiating a soft golden glow, stared at him with sharp, knowing eyes. His presence was powerful, but not oppressive. Unlike the others, he didn't seem wicked or twisted, just... observant.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  "You're new here," the man said, tilting his head slightly. "And you don't look strong yet you are not completely lost, which is interesting."

  GōkRahGōr tensed. He had been prepared for another battle, another test, but this was something else. "My name is GōkRahGōr of Grakha, And who are you?" he asked cautiously.

  The man gave a small, polite nod. "Frankfield Lightspawn. You can call me Frank. I keep an eye on things here." He gestured towards the chaos surrounding them. "And right now, you're one of the more interesting things to appear in quite some time."

  GōkRahGōr remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Frank seemed to pick up on his hesitation and smirked. "You look like someone with a lot of questions. Why don't you come with me? I know someone who loves explaining things."

  With little choice, GōkRahGōr followed. They weaved through the bizarre streets until they reached a structure unlike any other in the Center of All, a massive, floating cube covered in shifting, glowing symbols. As they entered, the sounds of the chaotic city outside faded, replaced by something equally strange, laughter. Booming, hearty laughter.

  "Ah, Frank, migo! What you bring me today?" a voice called out.

  GōkRahGōr turned to see a man leaning back in a chair, feet propped up on a table stacked with strange, floating artifacts. He had dark, sun-worn skin, a very long hair, and an easy confidence about him, like a gambler who had never lost a hand, and an energy that was completely out of place in a place like this, like he was having too much fun in a realm that had no rules.

  Frank sighed. "Juan, meet GōkRahGōr. GōkRahGōr, this is"

  "Juan Castillo Fabronas, or you might know me as The Castle, most efficient godkiller known to mankind!" Juan grinned and leaned forward. "And you! I recognize that look. You're confused as hell."

  GōkRahGōr's eyes narrowed. "You're a ape?"

  Juan snorted. "Damn right I am. I was wondering when you'd notice."

  GōkRahGōr had seen countless strange things in the past few days, but this? This was unexpected. He had assumed apes didn't exist beyond his world. Yet here was one, treating the Center of All like it was his personal clubhouse.

  Juan suddenly squinted at the branch in GōkRahGōr's hand. Then his gaze snapped up to the branch. "He defeated Syth too?"

  GōkRahGōr hesitated, but Juan waved him off. "No worries, no worries. I'm not mad. Just curious. Anyway! You're here, so that means your world got hit, huh?" His expression turned slightly more serious. "Let me guess. Big guys, super advanced, act like they own the place?"

  GōkRahGōr nodded slowly. "They called themselves the Agrah'Tari. They weren't just invaders. They... they were worshipped by other planets."

  Juan grinned. "Ding ding ding! And that, my friend, is why they're so damn dangerous. See, once enough people believe something's a god, the universe kinda just... goes with it. Doesn't matter if they started as just another alien race, if they've got followers, they get a little divine boost. And your planet? It was just another stop on their little divine tour."

  GōkRahGōr clenched his fists. "So they weren't just stronger. They were... something more."

  Juan nodded. "Exactly. Lesser divine entities, still trying to climb the ladder. But here's the fun part" He leaned in, grinning. "I collect 'em."

  GōkRahGōr blinked. "You... collect them?"

  Juan snapped his fingers, and a portal appeared beside him. He reached in and pulled out a glass orb. Inside, frozen in some kind of stasis, was a being unlike anything GōkRahGōr had ever seen. Its body was shifting, adapting, constantly trying to break free, but it couldn't.

  Juan tossed the orb up and caught it.

  GōkRahGōr stared in disbelief. Juan just shrugged. "It's not that hard. You just gotta know how to focus your mana."

  "Mana? What is mana?" GōkRahGōr asked.

  "Ah, carajo, I forgot you don't have magic and shit," Juan groaned, rubbing the back of his head. He turned to Frankfield. "Oye, hermano, you explain it, I'm not good at breaking this down for people who don't know nada."

  Frankfield sighed, crossing his arms. "Mana is the fundamental energy that fuels magic, the force that flows through all living things in the multiverse. Some worlds have it in abundance, others barely at all, like yours. But now, standing here inside Center of all, you're no longer bound by your world's limitations."

  GōkRahGōr furrowed his brow. "So... you're saying I can use this power now?"

  Frankfield nodded. "In time, yes. But understanding mana is just the first step."

  GōkRahGōr tightened his grip on the glowing branch. The weight of the unknown pressed on him, but for the first time in his life, he wasn't afraid. "Then tell me everything."

  Juan grinned, clapping him on the back. "Ah, eso me gusta, mono. Now we're talking! welcome to the madness, bro. This is gonna get real loco real fast."

  "Neither me or that ape does not fucking understand a bit of what you're saying, Juan," Frankfield said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  Before GōkRahGōr could respond, a young boy strolled into the room, his hands stuffed into the pockets of a long, tattered coat. His hair was messy, and his sharp, curious eyes darted between the three figures before landing on GōkRahGōr.

  "Who is this ape?" the boy asked bluntly.

  Juan turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Damn, kid, ever heard of manners?"

  Pax shrugged. "I just got here, and the first thing I see is a giant gorilla holding a glowing stick. Can you blame me for asking?"

  Frankfield sighed, rubbing his temples. "Pax, meet GōkRahGōr. He fought the war we stopped by, curiosity got the best of him and now he's here because of that." he pointed at the glowing branch in GōkRahGōr's hand, "which, by the way, is extremely important."

  Pax tilted his head, still unimpressed. "Right. And what exactly is he supposed to do with it?"

  GōkRahGōr clenched the branch tightly, his patience wearing thin. "That's what I'm here to find out."

  Juan smirked, nudging Pax. "See? The monkey doesn't even know he beat Syth."

  GōkRahGōr frowned. "Syth? That thing let me through because I had the branch."

  Juan's grin faltered. He patted his pockets, his expression shifting from amused to mildly panicked. "Wait... wait, wait, wait" He dug deeper into his coat, checking every pocket. Then, eyes widening, he pointed at the glowing branch in GōkRahGōr's hand.

  "No mames! That's my branch!"

  Pax snorted. "Dude, how do you just lose a world-breaking artifact?"

  Juan threw his hands up. "Chale! I was busy!" He turned to GōkRahGōr. "Alright, big guy, listen. That branch? Super important, super dangerous, super mine. So, uh... how about you hand it back, yeah?"

  GōkRahGōr gripped the branch tighter. "No."

  Juan blinked. "Okay, wow. Straight-up no? No hesitation? Not even a maybe?"

  Frankfield sighed. "Juan, just explain why the branch matters before you start trying to scam it back."

  Juan crossed his arms, staring at the branch like he was debating his life choices. Then he looked at GōkRahGōr.

  "Alright, fine. Lemme tell you why that thing is about to change your whole damn existence."

  Juan crossed his arms, shaking his head. "Alright, listen up, big guy. That branch? It's not just some fancy glowstick. It's your ticket back home. If you hadn't taken it from me, you'd be stuck either lost in some random-ass world where you don't know shit, or worse..."

  He leaned in, lowering his voice dramatically. "You'd be trapped here, in the Center of All. And trust me, nobody wants that. You know what happens to the ones who get stuck here with no way out?"

  Pax grinned. "They end up as livestock for the Wraithmongers."

  GōkRahGōr's grip on the branch tightened. "Wraithmongers?"

  Juan nodded. "Yeah, creepy bastards who deal in, well... beings like me and you. Imagine getting snatched up, put in a cage, and slowly drained of your essence while some eldritch freak sells pieces of you to the highest bidder. Fun, right?"

  GōkRahGōr's expression darkened. "That will not happen to me."

  "Good! 'Cause you got the branch," Juan said, clapping his hands. "Which means you got a choice, you can go home."

  GōkRahGōr hesitated, staring at the glowing branch. Home. Grakha. His people. After everything he'd been through, he finally had a way back.

  But something still didn't sit right. "If this branch belongs to you... why did Syth let me through?"

  Juan rubbed his chin, then shrugged. "Good question. Maybe he saw something in you. Maybe it was fate. Or maybe..." He shot a glance at Frankfield, then back at GōkRahGōr. "Maybe that shithead is just stupid... maybe."

  GōkRahGōr felt like he was being dragged into something far bigger than he had ever imagined. The invaders of his world were not just an advanced race, they were climbing the ranks of divinity. And now, somehow, he had crossed paths with a man who hunted gods for fun.

  Juan patted him on the back. "Alright, monkey. You've got a lot to learn, and I ain't got all day. Welcome to the madness."

  "With that, the second member out seven members of the pantheon."