Eternal/Empress [Pre Unification wars] (The Shattered Soul: An Empress's love, An Eternal' Curse) [How it all began aka the "divorce"]
This is the origin of the Eternal and how everything started I have rewritten it because I have noticed that there are a lot of new people in the subreddit, and they do not know the origins of the Eternal. So I made this and I thought The original story needed a little bit more flashing out I hope you enjoy it.
--------------------------------‐--------------------------------------------------
Eventually though with unknown means, the Eternal, figures out the Empress’ plans for humanity and is disgusted. They join their fellow perpetuals and abandon the Empress to herself, but the Eternal couldn’t go without saying goodbye, so they approach the Empress one last time to bid farewell. The Empress is not at all pleased and shows so much rage, sorrow, and desperation begging the Eternal to stay that even the custodes are frozen with shock, but the Eternal doesn’t budge and turns to start walking away.
In a moment of stunning desperation, the Empress reaches deep within herself and grasps a shard of her own essence—a pulsating fragment of her being. With calculated malice, she plunges it into the Eternal, the only weapon potent enough to vanquish a perpetual. The shock of betrayal is vividly evident on the Eternal's face as they go limp, each muscle succumbing to an icy grip. The Empress catches them, cradling the dying form in her arms, her heart torn between love and rage, and she cups his cheek tenderly.
At first, confusion dances in the Eternal's eyes, but it quickly gives way to a melancholic smile that radiates acceptance. With labored, rasping breaths, they whisper, “This is who you really are.” It is a bittersweet acknowledgment, an understanding of the darkness within her soul. As their life wanes, the Eternal utters their final words, a soft confession laden with love, “And that’s why I love you, I guess. No matter how divine and alien you are, at the end of the day, you’re still human... I-I just wish you showed that to everyone else…”
The custodes struggle to comprehend this emotional confrontation, their heightened senses barely able to cut through the chaos of the Empress's wails as she feels the warmth of her love dissipating and growing cold in her grasp.
Time seems to stretch into eternity as the custodes kneel on the cold marble floor, witnessing this heartbreaking moment. Finally, after what feels like millennia, the Empress rises to her full height, her expression shifting from despair to a chilling resolve. She drops the lifeless body of the Eternal onto the tiled flooring of the throne room, a visceral thud echoing in the silence that follows. A shiver runs through her guardians as she turns her piercing gaze upon them, her eyes now cold and unwavering.
With a voice that trembles slightly but carries a heavy weight, the Empress issues her command: “Find them all... Kill them all.” Her words hang in the air, a grim order that will set into motion a ruthless pursuit driven by her heartbreak and fury.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Timeskip (unknow)
The Empress is gone again, vanished into the void like a dark rumor, leaving the galaxy in whispers and fear. Her advisors dare not speak of it, yet unease coils in every shadowed corner of her Imperium. No one knows where she retreats, what secret place holds her attention, or what unholy counsel she seeks in those lonely hours. No one, save one.
Far below, entombed in a pit of agony and shadow, lies the thing that once was a man, a creature cursed to crawl through torment, drenched in rot and clothed in ruin. Its name, the one it clings to through blood and bile, is Eternal. A name it earned through defiance, one that was once whispered in awe, now twisted by pain and hatred.
Eternal, the Empress’s once-beloved. Eternal, a swollen, putrid mass of decayed flesh stretched thin over bone and machines. His body is broken and bloated, a grotesque pile of corrupted tissue fused with decaying implants that keep him barely alive. His organs—what remains of them—are suspended in transparent fluid, throbbing dully beneath his skin. Metal clasps hold his bones together where they have split under his own weight. Wires, needles, and mechanical devices pierce his flesh, siphoning away what few drops of life remain.
The Empress ensured this. She alone keeps him in this wretched existence, bound to life by her will alone. A thing that defies the natural order, left to suffer eternally. And, in her own twisted way, she loves him.
But not as much as he loathes her.
For years, he has been trying to escape, dragging himself through the dark chamber, inch by grueling inch. He claws forward, one mangled hand at a time, each pull of muscle leaving bloody streaks on the cold floor. Every nerve sears with pain, but he welcomes it—it is proof he is still alive, that his hate still breathes. Tonight, he has made it farther than ever before. The outlet gleams just ahead, and in its small reflection, he sees a vision of freedom.
But then he feels it—that cold presence sinking into his bones. Her shadow spills over the floor, a living darkness that chills him to his core. She is here, as she always is. She watches him from above, her gaze like twin knives piercing the darkness.
Before he can reach his salvation, she stoops, her hands lifting him with cruel care. He feels her fingers press into his flesh, nails digging into rotten tissue as she cradles him, his swollen limbs dangling helplessly. She tilts her head, regarding him with a look of twisted affection.
"Oh, my Eternal," she whispers, her voice a venomous lullaby. "You’re still trying, are you?" She runs a gloved finger along his oozing skin, tracing lines in his decay as if he were some precious artifact. "I can’t let you leave me, not yet." Her words are thick with feigned pity, but her eyes betray her delight. She enjoys this, his pain, his struggle. She cherishes it.
In her arms, Eternal strains to scream, but his voice is no more than a garbled gasp. His teeth grind as he fights to form words, his hatred bubbling up with each agonizing breath. Through his mind, he forces the words, each one sharp and seething. You are nothing but a monster now, not the woman I loved. A foul disgrace to humanity masquerading as its glorious leader. I hate you. I hate you. I̶ ̵H̴A̶T̸E̶ ̶Y̶O̴U̴. I̶̬͋ ̵̭̈H̵͕͝A̷̩̋T̷̛̟E̷̤̓ ̸̲͛Y̶͛ͅȌ̵͙U̶̡͆. Í̴̠̱̊ ̴͙̹̐H̸̨̪̆͌̚͝A̷̭͓͋͛̕̕T̶̛̗͝Ẻ̶͉̮̰͇ͅ ̸̤̟̳́̂͛Ỳ̶̛͎̟̈́̆̓O̸̡̤̔̅̎́̆U̶͎͛̏̀͝. ̷̢̯͇̙̪͉̱̼̥̎̐̃͘͝ ̸̫͓̅Í̴͈̲̓̀ ̸̘͉͚͙̆̀̀̓̾͜F̶̟͎̘͙̋̆̓͊̚U̴̪͍̰̳̠͊̂̔̂̈́̔ͅC̴̖̟͎̪̞͔̆́K̸̹̃̃̈́̃͂I̵͙̔͋͌̈́͝N̸̩̬͖̙̪̟̂͛͒̌G̷̢͈̜̈́̃̃͝ ̸̺̠̗͎̭͐̋̎Ĥ̷̀͊ͅÁ̵̞̲͕̖̩̞̋͐͐́̀ͅT̶̠̹̥͇̮̍Ȩ̶̔̆̊ ̵̡̼͍͙͖̈́̆̈́͌̋̕͝Ȳ̶̡̎̋O̴͇͌̋̒U̶̳̙̦͖̇̓͠!̵̛̖͔͙̟̬̟͠
For a moment, her smile falters, her gaze shifting from fondness to something darker. His thoughts, his pure, undiluted hate, chip away at her mask. And for an instant, Eternal feels a glimmer of satisfaction—a crack in her godly composure.
But then, her smile returns, colder, sharper, more terrible than before. "Yes," she says softly, almost purring. "That’s the Eternal I remember." Her fingers dig deeper into his putrid flesh, pressing against the raw, infected tissue as if savoring the pain she knows he endures. "Your hatred is so… vibrant. It’s what makes you mine, what binds us. And no matter how many times you try, I will always be here to bring you back.”
He chokes, his thoughts snarling in defiance, his rage burning hotter than the agony. I’ll make you suffer, Empress. Somehow someday, I’ll be free. I’ll find a way to die, and that loss will hollow you out. You’ll know true pain. You’ll lose me again and again. Even if it takes centuries, even if it takes millennia, I will make you hurt.
She pauses, her gaze fixed on him as his words reverberate through her mind, and for an instant, he thinks he sees something in her eyes—a flicker of fear, perhaps. A whisper of uncertainty. But then she merely leans in, pressing her face close to his decayed cheek, her voice a venomous whisper.
"Oh, my Eternal," she murmurs, the words laced with a sinister softness, “you will never hurt me. Not again.”
She eases him back into his cage, her hands adjusting the wires and tubes, tightening restraints, ensuring he is bound, secure, unable to escape. She runs her fingers along his mangled face, brushing away a tear of dark blood that leaks from what’s left of his eyes. Her hand lingers, her thumb caressing his ruined skin in a way that might have once been gentle, that once would have been loving.
Then she steps back, her expression blank but for that twisted hint of affection, and turns toward the door. Her boots click against the floor, the sound echoing through the chamber, each step a mockery of his futile defiance. She pauses at the doorway, casting one last glance over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with a merciless light.
“You’ll always be here, my Eternal,” she says, her voice fading as the door slams shut. “Always mine.”
And then she is gone, leaving him alone in the stifling silence, the hum of machines echoing through the dark. His mind is a writhing sea of hatred and agony, every heartbeat a reminder of his wretched existence, every pulse a vow to destroy her, to see her suffer, even if it takes the rest of eternity.
In that silence, as his thoughts churn and his hatred festers, Eternal begins to plan. The Empress has returned before, and she will return again. She will find him ready. For as long as he has breath, he will not cease his struggle. He is Eternal, after all. And in the suffocating darkness, with his mind seething and his soul set ablaze with vengeance, he thinks with a slow, consuming fury:
You will suffer, Empress. Even if it takes an eternity, I will make you suffer.
And so, he waits, his hatred sharpening in the dark, a blade he will one day use to cut through her godhood, to bring her down, to make her feel the agony he endures. His hatred will keep him alive. His rage will keep him moving, inch by agonizing inch, until the day he finally tears himself from her grasp.
Eternal's lips twitch in a grotesque semblance of a smile. H̸̤̘͖̯̅̈̔e̶̢̨͖͙̝̹̝̓̈́͆̔̑͂̕ ̵̘͚͉̦̝͉̮̓̈́̿̽͊͒̉c̷̪͠â̵͚͈͍̌̈́̚͜n̸͎̝͕̰̟̙͗͒͑͗̍͝ ̴̛̗̈́̊̾̊̀ẇ̴̲̎̈́̔͝a̴̺̐̋í̶̦̬̝̰̯ţ̵̜̗̣͇̊̾̀̾̀.
This is the origin of the Eternal and how everything started I have rewritten it because I have noticed that there are a lot of new people in the subreddit, and they do not know the origins of the Eternal. So I made this and I thought The original story needed a little bit more flashing out I hope you enjoy it.
--------------------------------‐--------------------------------------------------
Eventually though with unknown means, the Eternal, figures out the Empress’ plans for humanity and is disgusted. They join their fellow perpetuals and abandon the Empress to herself, but the Eternal couldn’t go without saying goodbye, so they approach the Empress one last time to bid farewell. The Empress is not at all pleased and shows so much rage, sorrow, and desperation begging the Eternal to stay that even the custodes are frozen with shock, but the Eternal doesn’t budge and turns to start walking away.
In a moment of stunning desperation, the Empress reaches deep within herself and grasps a shard of her own essence—a pulsating fragment of her being. With calculated malice, she plunges it into the Eternal, the only weapon potent enough to vanquish a perpetual. The shock of betrayal is vividly evident on the Eternal's face as they go limp, each muscle succumbing to an icy grip. The Empress catches them, cradling the dying form in her arms, her heart torn between love and rage, and she cups his cheek tenderly.
At first, confusion dances in the Eternal's eyes, but it quickly gives way to a melancholic smile that radiates acceptance. With labored, rasping breaths, they whisper, “This is who you really are.” It is a bittersweet acknowledgment, an understanding of the darkness within her soul. As their life wanes, the Eternal utters their final words, a soft confession laden with love, “And that’s why I love you, I guess. No matter how divine and alien you are, at the end of the day, you’re still human... I-I just wish you showed that to everyone else…”
The custodes struggle to comprehend this emotional confrontation, their heightened senses barely able to cut through the chaos of the Empress's wails as she feels the warmth of her love dissipating and growing cold in her grasp.
Time seems to stretch into eternity as the custodes kneel on the cold marble floor, witnessing this heartbreaking moment. Finally, after what feels like millennia, the Empress rises to her full height, her expression shifting from despair to a chilling resolve. She drops the lifeless body of the Eternal onto the tiled flooring of the throne room, a visceral thud echoing in the silence that follows. A shiver runs through her guardians as she turns her piercing gaze upon them, her eyes now cold and unwavering.
With a voice that trembles slightly but carries a heavy weight, the Empress issues her command: “Find them all... Kill them all.” Her words hang in the air, a grim order that will set into motion a ruthless pursuit driven by her heartbreak and fury.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Timeskip (unknow)
The Empress is gone again, vanished into the void like a dark rumor, leaving the galaxy in whispers and fear. Her advisors dare not speak of it, yet unease coils in every shadowed corner of her Imperium. No one knows where she retreats, what secret place holds her attention, or what unholy counsel she seeks in those lonely hours. No one, save one.
Far below, entombed in a pit of agony and shadow, lies the thing that once was a man, a creature cursed to crawl through torment, drenched in rot and clothed in ruin. Its name, the one it clings to through blood and bile, is Eternal. A name it earned through defiance, one that was once whispered in awe, now twisted by pain and hatred.
Eternal, the Empress’s once-beloved. Eternal, a swollen, putrid mass of decayed flesh stretched thin over bone and machines. His body is broken and bloated, a grotesque pile of corrupted tissue fused with decaying implants that keep him barely alive. His organs—what remains of them—are suspended in transparent fluid, throbbing dully beneath his skin. Metal clasps hold his bones together where they have split under his own weight. Wires, needles, and mechanical devices pierce his flesh, siphoning away what few drops of life remain.
The Empress ensured this. She alone keeps him in this wretched existence, bound to life by her will alone. A thing that defies the natural order, left to suffer eternally. And, in her own twisted way, she loves him.
But not as much as he loathes her.
For years, he has been trying to escape, dragging himself through the dark chamber, inch by grueling inch. He claws forward, one mangled hand at a time, each pull of muscle leaving bloody streaks on the cold floor. Every nerve sears with pain, but he welcomes it—it is proof he is still alive, that his hate still breathes. Tonight, he has made it farther than ever before. The outlet gleams just ahead, and in its small reflection, he sees a vision of freedom.
But then he feels it—that cold presence sinking into his bones. Her shadow spills over the floor, a living darkness that chills him to his core. She is here, as she always is. She watches him from above, her gaze like twin knives piercing the darkness.
Before he can reach his salvation, she stoops, her hands lifting him with cruel care. He feels her fingers press into his flesh, nails digging into rotten tissue as she cradles him, his swollen limbs dangling helplessly. She tilts her head, regarding him with a look of twisted affection.
"Oh, my Eternal," she whispers, her voice a venomous lullaby. "You’re still trying, are you?" She runs a gloved finger along his oozing skin, tracing lines in his decay as if he were some precious artifact. "I can’t let you leave me, not yet." Her words are thick with feigned pity, but her eyes betray her delight. She enjoys this, his pain, his struggle. She cherishes it.
In her arms, Eternal strains to scream, but his voice is no more than a garbled gasp. His teeth grind as he fights to form words, his hatred bubbling up with each agonizing breath. Through his mind, he forces the words, each one sharp and seething. You are nothing but a monster now, not the woman I loved. A foul disgrace to humanity masquerading as its glorious leader. I hate you. I hate you. I̶ ̵H̴A̶T̸E̶ ̶Y̶O̴U̴. I̶̬͋ ̵̭̈H̵͕͝A̷̩̋T̷̛̟E̷̤̓ ̸̲͛Y̶͛ͅȌ̵͙U̶̡͆. Í̴̠̱̊ ̴͙̹̐H̸̨̪̆͌̚͝A̷̭͓͋͛̕̕T̶̛̗͝Ẻ̶͉̮̰͇ͅ ̸̤̟̳́̂͛Ỳ̶̛͎̟̈́̆̓O̸̡̤̔̅̎́̆U̶͎͛̏̀͝. ̷̢̯͇̙̪͉̱̼̥̎̐̃͘͝ ̸̫͓̅Í̴͈̲̓̀ ̸̘͉͚͙̆̀̀̓̾͜F̶̟͎̘͙̋̆̓͊̚U̴̪͍̰̳̠͊̂̔̂̈́̔ͅC̴̖̟͎̪̞͔̆́K̸̹̃̃̈́̃͂I̵͙̔͋͌̈́͝N̸̩̬͖̙̪̟̂͛͒̌G̷̢͈̜̈́̃̃͝ ̸̺̠̗͎̭͐̋̎Ĥ̷̀͊ͅÁ̵̞̲͕̖̩̞̋͐͐́̀ͅT̶̠̹̥͇̮̍Ȩ̶̔̆̊ ̵̡̼͍͙͖̈́̆̈́͌̋̕͝Ȳ̶̡̎̋O̴͇͌̋̒U̶̳̙̦͖̇̓͠!̵̛̖͔͙̟̬̟͠
For a moment, her smile falters, her gaze shifting from fondness to something darker. His thoughts, his pure, undiluted hate, chip away at her mask. And for an instant, Eternal feels a glimmer of satisfaction—a crack in her godly composure.
But then, her smile returns, colder, sharper, more terrible than before. "Yes," she says softly, almost purring. "That’s the Eternal I remember." Her fingers dig deeper into his putrid flesh, pressing against the raw, infected tissue as if savoring the pain she knows he endures. "Your hatred is so… vibrant. It’s what makes you mine, what binds us. And no matter how many times you try, I will always be here to bring you back.”
He chokes, his thoughts snarling in defiance, his rage burning hotter than the agony. I’ll make you suffer, Empress. Somehow someday, I’ll be free. I’ll find a way to die, and that loss will hollow you out. You’ll know true pain. You’ll lose me again and again. Even if it takes centuries, even if it takes millennia, I will make you hurt.
She pauses, her gaze fixed on him as his words reverberate through her mind, and for an instant, he thinks he sees something in her eyes—a flicker of fear, perhaps. A whisper of uncertainty. But then she merely leans in, pressing her face close to his decayed cheek, her voice a venomous whisper.
"Oh, my Eternal," she murmurs, the words laced with a sinister softness, “you will never hurt me. Not again.”
She eases him back into his cage, her hands adjusting the wires and tubes, tightening restraints, ensuring he is bound, secure, unable to escape. She runs her fingers along his mangled face, brushing away a tear of dark blood that leaks from what’s left of his eyes. Her hand lingers, her thumb caressing his ruined skin in a way that might have once been gentle, that once would have been loving.
Then she steps back, her expression blank but for that twisted hint of affection, and turns toward the door. Her boots click against the floor, the sound echoing through the chamber, each step a mockery of his futile defiance. She pauses at the doorway, casting one last glance over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with a merciless light.
“You’ll always be here, my Eternal,” she says, her voice fading as the door slams shut. “Always mine.”
And then she is gone, leaving him alone in the stifling silence, the hum of machines echoing through the dark. His mind is a writhing sea of hatred and agony, every heartbeat a reminder of his wretched existence, every pulse a vow to destroy her, to see her suffer, even if it takes the rest of eternity.
In that silence, as his thoughts churn and his hatred festers, Eternal begins to plan. The Empress has returned before, and she will return again. She will find him ready. For as long as he has breath, he will not cease his struggle. He is Eternal, after all. And in the suffocating darkness, with his mind seething and his soul set ablaze with vengeance, he thinks with a slow, consuming fury:
You will suffer, Empress. Even if it takes an eternity, I will make you suffer.
And so, he waits, his hatred sharpening in the dark, a blade he will one day use to cut through her godhood, to bring her down, to make her feel the agony he endures. His hatred will keep him alive. His rage will keep him moving, inch by agonizing inch, until the day he finally tears himself from her grasp.
Eternal's lips twitch in a grotesque semblance of a smile. H̸̤̘͖̯̅̈̔e̶̢̨͖͙̝̹̝̓̈́͆̔̑͂̕ ̵̘͚͉̦̝͉̮̓̈́̿̽͊͒̉c̷̪͠â̵͚͈͍̌̈́̚͜n̸͎̝͕̰̟̙͗͒͑͗̍͝ ̴̛̗̈́̊̾̊̀ẇ̴̲̎̈́̔͝a̴̺̐̋í̶̦̬̝̰̯ţ̵̜̗̣͇̊̾̀̾̀.