First Demonic Dragon

”…This is really stupid.”

“I already told you that it would be though, peach?”

“Not this stupid!”

Currently, Abaddon and Gabbrielle were on one of the abandoned planets taken from Yaldabaoth.

In the middle of a large empty field, the dragon god was encased in a small translucent box of unbreakable spacial magic.

Gabbrielle was standing safety outside of it, wearing the meanest, and cutest scowl that her father had ever seen.

“I know that I often tell you that you should not do something, but this is something you truly should not do.” She reaffirmed.

“But think of the potential gains!”

“Think of erasing yourself and leaving all of my mothers as widows.”

At this, Abaddon did become slightly more serious.

He kneeled down inside of the barrier and placed his hand up against the wall.

His daughter mimicked this action, and placed her little hand over his own.

“Gabbrielle… your mothers are my everything, as are you and your siblings. No matter what happens or what odds I have to defy, I will never leave you all behind. Can you have faith in me?”

Gabbrielle took a moment to think about it, and Abaddon waited patiently for her response.

“…You had better keep your word.”

“I always do, peach.”

Abaddon and Gabbrielle pressed their foreheads against the barrier and held them there for a long time.

When Gabbrielle was finally ready to let her father go, she backed away while trying to suppress her sad gaze.

Abaddon gave her one final reassuring smile before he eventually turned away from her.

And she, knowing that this would not be a painless endeavor, turned her head away to prevent herself from breaking down.

She crossed her little legs and sat down with her back facing her father’s.

And finally, Abaddon began his endeavor.

He started by pulling out his fabled spark that was cracked, but still radiant.

“To fix it, you can’t use anything inferior or that can’t hold it’s power…” Gabbrielle said. “Anything you use must be truly powerful and touched by the creator.”

Abaddon nodded, already knowing what he was going to use.

Touching his chest, he pulled several items out of his soul.

The first, was the true death. The sword capable of eviscerating the existence of anything beneath the primordial level.

Second were his divinities. Rebellion, Destruction, Order, Chaos, Nature, Stories, Sex, Monsters, and Desire.

Next, he removed about a pint of his golden blood; which he had been told contained the horrible power of non-existence.

“Father… I love you very much.” Gabbrielle suddenly said.

Abaddon tried not to become choked up by her sudden show of affection, and he took a moment before he could respond back.

“I love you too, peach. This’ll all be over before you know it.”

Finally, Abaddon covered all of his materials into pure, refined magical energy.

Taking a deep breath, he began intricately using the materials to fill the cracks within his fabled spark.

And the reaction was instantaneous.

The unequaled jewelry reacted vibrantly, and struck Abaddon with a wave of power unlike any he had ever experienced before, and it came in constant waves.

The first wave forced his back against the barrier and melted the clothes on his body.

Luckily he took his wedding rings off before doing this or they probably would have been damaged too.

The second wave began to melt his skin and hair, and he started to feel a mounting pressure on his soul.

The third wave boiled his flesh and nearly knocked him unconscious.

The fourth exposed his diamond bones in several places.

Gritting his teeth, he used his brain’s full capacity to focus on the task at hand.

To more efficiently seal the cracks, he combined his divinity of Order, Space, and Nature with Desire, in the hopes that unified they would make the alteration process less volatile.

In the midst of this, images flashed in his mind.

He could see a great city made of white and silver; filled to the brim with citizens wearing white clothes and sporting wings from their backs.

They were all looking around in panic as their whole domain started to shake, and one angel that looked eerily familiar seemed to be staring directly at him…

The fifth wave crushed his bones and began to vaporize them.

It was beginning to get hard to see, and speaking was a surefire impossibility now.

He took comfort in the fact that Gabbrielle couldn’t hear him scream if his will ever gave out.

But with the arrival of the sixth wave, his body was completely destroyed.

But he was unconcerned with this.

After becoming a god, his regeneration was so unnatural that he could regenerate even if all of his physical body was obliterated.

So long as his soul was in tact, that was all that mattered.

Next, Abaddon used his melted down sword to heal another portion of the spark. .

The millions upon millions of souls who were trapped inside of his blade screamed in agony as their essence was used to repair, and evolve, a power that was far beyond them.

Since it wasn’t quite enough and Abaddon’s soul was becoming more and more unstable, he added in the divinities of Stories and Monsters.

This time he could see… so many things.

Inhumans, one and all, along with flashes of their lives and memories.

With another crack repaired, Abaddon turned his focus to another despite the mounting pressure against his soul.

In another, smaller crack, he inserted the divinity of sex along with a few drops of his blood.

This time… he felt like he saw too much.

Orgies, lovey dovey sex, hateful sex, unsatisfying sex, clumsy handjobs, and more BDSM than he knew what to do with.

As he refused to lose focus, he retracted his gaze immediately.

The last, and largest crack was the one he had saved the bulk of his materials for.

He combined Rebellion, Chaos, Destruction, and the remainder of his golden blood that had nearly evaporated.

Ever so carefully, he began fusing their energies together before inserting them into the crack.

Almost immediately, the entire composition of the fabled spark seemed to change as it became a muddled black and white color.

But at the moment where the final component was introduced, the seventh wave splintered his soul into countless golden shards.

And all that he saw was darkness.

–

Within true nothingness, Abaddon was enlightened.

He was inspired by a power that he wished to have, and one that he felt would make him unsurmountable, and give his family the protection that they needed.

This was the power beyond life, above death, and defied explanation.

And he felt that it was fitting for him.

But there was just one problem.

This power was sentient.

And it seemed to already have an owner.

The moment that Abaddon tried to take it, he died.

There was no fight, no struggle.

He simply died, completely and totally without even fighting back.

He was effectively erased.

And then, something miraculous happened.

He wrote himself back into existence.

The divinity of rebellion isn’t one that Abaddon got the chance to use a lot.

Or at all really.

He used it so little in fact that even he didn’t know much about it.

But unbeknownst to him, it’s true power shone through in moments like this.

When circumstances are impossibly dire, and it seems as though the world itself is written against him, Rebellion overturns the will of the universe, and gives himself a fighting chance.

It isn’t an inevitable victory sort of ability.

It only lasts as long as Abaddon has fighting spirit to burn.

But from the moment that they are born, a dragon’s rage is unending.

He had enough fighting spirit to last him eons.

And he put every bit of it to use.

Time after time again, Abaddon resurrected and tried to steal the power he so coveted, but failed in his effort all the same.

But it didn’t stop him.

He forgot about everything, save for his family.

His sole focus became consumption and overturning his fate.

He was the sole light against the darkness that was splintered time and time again, dispersing himself more and more at every instance of death.

It took so very, very long…

But eventually, he got the sort of opportunity that he had been vying for.

After having his soul destroyed so many times, enough of shards of him had been spread out throughout this terrible domain.

So much so that it was no longer distinguishable which of them was which.

The entities simply… molded into each other.

It was an impossible, unimaginable feat.

Abaddon tore apart the ancient ego of the entity while ignoring all of it’s hate filled cries.

After twelve billion years spent in constant conflict, the source of all dragons finally had his prize.

And he was about to undergo a monumental metamorphosis.

–

Gabbrielle was utterly horrified the moment that she felt her father’s soul disappear.

She immediately stood up and started banging on the walls of the barrier like she was trying to break it down.

“F-Father..? Father!!”

Tears started to stream down her face as her little fist repeatedly stuck the glass.

“G-Gabbrielle!? Where’s your father?!”

Ayaana appeared in a bolt of lightning and it was easy to tell that she was already in a panic.

Gabbrielle didn’t even know how to look at her mother, and she simply cried as she pointed at the barrier with her small hand.

Ayaana started to devolve into a state of despair and mayhem as well, but at that moment she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Looking behind her back, she found a woman that she didn’t recognize staring at the barrier with a serious look.

However, with the familiar clothes and the older man standing behind her, she knew who it was immediately.

“A-Asherah..?”

“Fret not, my children…It is not what you think.”

“W-What? Y-You mean that he’s not dead, right..?”

Asherah’s brow crinkled, and for the first time in eons she was at a loss for words.

“I…”

“You what?! Spit it out, please!!” Gabbrielle begged.

“I cannot say for certain what Abaddon has just done… but I do know for certain that he is not dead.”

At that moment, Yesh raised a single hand to point inside of the barrier.

The fabled spark that he had given Abaddon was glowing with five different colors.

One was a pinkish violet.

Another was a mass of dark blues and flecks of gold.

The other was a muddled brownish red.

The final two were the brightest and most ominous, with one being such a pitch black that it was indescribable, and the other a blinding white.

Finally, the spark thrummed with a low and melodic hum, and a shell began to form around it.

The girls watched as an egg the size of a large dog crate formed around their husband and dropped to the ground harmlessly.

Wiping her face, Gabbrielle smiled as she laughed hysterically.

“You were right, father… You did it..!”

Ayaana on the other hand was still confused.

“What exactly did he do…?”

Yesh touched his chest under his robe; somehow equally as surprised as everyone else.

‘He stole something from me… and he… I don’t know.’

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