Azathoth sat entirely alone on his dark throne in the empty void of the Nexus Realm. After a long silence, he slowly stood up. He walked down the steps into the endless shadows, a slow, wicked smile creeping across his face.
"Time for Plan B," Azathoth whispered to the darkness. "By the time I am done, there will be nothing left."
On Planet Luciferio, the land was cracked, dry, and barren. Azathoth materialized on the dead soil, his feet touching the dust.
A tall female figure walked up to him. She bowed her head, her face blank and devoid of emotion.
Azathoth looked down at her with cold eyes. "It has been a long time, Astragel."
"Nice to meet you, Master," she replied in a dull, robotic tone.
"So, what now?" Azathoth asked.
The woman pointed toward the horizon, where millions of people from Luciferio’s race were violently training for war.
Azathoth sneered, turning his gaze back to her. "I don't like you. I don't. You are just a mindless being I created to torture Serena. I gave you the name 'Astragel' to mock the real Astragel. A direct mockery of his name."
Azathoth began to walk past her, and she obediently followed by his side.
"The reason I don't like you," Azathoth continued, his voice dripping with venom, "is that you are just a mindless body with no soul. You are not as sweet as Serena. I made you the queen of this whole race after Luciferio was imprisoned. I was expecting efficiency. I was expecting perfection."
He stopped and glared at the training armies. "No gems. No Rangers dead. Nothing. For years, you have been chasing a group of young adults, and what do we have here? We have nothing."
"Master," the fake Astragel said blankly. "The Rangers are not the problem. The gems are the problem. The gems are too powerful."
"What a foolish excuse," Azathoth hissed.
"We have generals now," she pointed at the elite warriors in the distance. "The generals will be sent to fight the Rangers."
"No, no, no, no," Azathoth shook his head. He raised his voice, letting it boom like thunder across the barren planet. "Everyone, come close! Form a circle around me! Come closer!"
The Morphin Masters—the dark legion of Luciferio's race—stopped their training and began to walk toward him.
"Hurry up and form a circle!" the fake Astragel shouted.
Thousands, then millions of warriors marched forward, surrounding Azathoth in a massive, endless ring.
Azathoth looked around at the vast army. "I will speak, and you shall listen."
"Yes, Master!" the massive crowd shouted in unison. The fake Astragel bowed deeply. This story is hosted at g.com.
"Yes, the gems are the most powerful objects," Azathoth said calmly. "I know how powerful the Crown of the Seven Days is. I know you are trying your best." He paused, tilting his head. "Are you trying your best?"
"Yes, Master!" the crowd roared.
Instantly, people in the front rows began to drop dead. They fell face-flat onto the dry dirt. One by one, thousands of warriors collapsed, completely lifeless.
The rest of the crowd instantly went dead silent, paralyzed with terror. They stared in horror as their comrades fell dead around them.
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Azathoth looked at the bodies littering the ground. "Think before you answer me. This is not a joke. These people on the floor died because they admitted that they were useless."
The remaining crowd panicked, trembling where they stood. "Yes, Master!"
"If this is your best," Azathoth said, his eyes glowing with dark fury, "if you are really trying your best and still failing... then I tell you, it is better for you to die. You serve no purpose in this war."
He paced around the circle of terrified survivors. "We are not trying our best. We are not fighting at our fullest potential. Because if those dead people were truly at their best, what purpose do they even have?"
Azathoth held up a hand. "What I ask of you is easy. All I said is: get me the gems from the Rangers. That is all! But you fail all the time, and you have the nerve to say that was your best!"
The fake Astragel stared blankly at Azathoth, then at the trembling crowd.
"The Rangers might wield the gems. They might be gods in their own right," Azathoth said, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "But look within. Look at yourselves. Don't you know you are gods?"
He pointed at the sky. "Before the First Great War, you were made to protect the Crown of the Seven Days! The Rangers might have five of the gems now, but don't you realize you are an empire? A kingdom of darkness? The Rangers are just five kids. You are legions upon legions!"
Azathoth looked at the crowd. "What are you?"
"We are gods," the crowd chanted, their voices shaking.
"If you cannot overpower the Rangers, if you cannot overpower the gems... then outsmart them," Azathoth demanded.
The fake Astragel leaned in and whispered something into Azathoth's ear. Azathoth smiled a terrifying, evil smile.
"I don't want to see anyone on this planet," Azathoth commanded. "I want you to spread out. I want you to spread and stay on every single planet in the universe. I want you to outnumber the Rangers. They won't only have to worry about protecting Earth... they will have to worry about protecting all of creation."
A warrior named Hajun hesitantly raised a trembling hand. "What should we do on their planets?"
Azathoth slowly turned his head to look at Hajun. "You all have failed me over and over again. All I asked for was the gems." Azathoth stepped closer, pure anger radiating from his body. "Am I not your Master? Am I not your Lord?"
"You are! You are! You are!" the crowd screamed in sheer panic.
Azathoth smiled warmly at the terrified crowd, though his eyes remained dead. "I have made up my mind."
The warriors looked at each other in horror.
"You don't value your lives enough," Azathoth said. "Anytime you go after the gems, someone dies. You think you can just fight the Rangers, lose, die, and then just multiply and reproduce to replace the dead."
Azathoth’s face hardened into a scowl. "I want failure and defeat to damage your race internally. Then you will learn. Then you will value life. Then you will strive for victory and fight the Rangers with all you have!"
The crowd murmured, absolute dread washing over them.
"Silence! I have made up my mind!" Azathoth shouted. "Since all of you want to be useless failures, constantly disgraced by children... you disgrace the name of Evil. And I bear the name of Evil. When the soldier loses, the king loses also. I am done."
The crowd dropped to their knees, begging and weeping.
"Am I not your Master? I shall give you a severe punishment for your failures," Azathoth declared. "From today, your species cannot reproduce with each other. From today, no pure-blooded male can ever get a pure-blooded female pregnant."
The crowd screamed in agony. Many tried to speak, but Azathoth roared over them. "Silence! Since you all love to throw your lives at the Rangers and give them glory, eventually, your pure species will die out!"
Azathoth looked down at the weeping warriors. "Are you crying?" he mocked. "I have given you a purpose. On other planets, be a lion who latches onto his prey. Give birth to as many hybrids as you want to keep your race alive."
A female warrior named Coviola raised her hand, tears streaming down her face. "But Lord... the full-blooded will eventually die in battle. Our original race will—"
"Shut up, young lady," Azathoth snapped. "You don't decay. You live forever. But you are so useless, you know deep down that the Rangers will end your pure race. If that happens, then you deserve to be replaced by the hybrids."
Azathoth stepped back, looking out over the weeping, broken empire of gods. "If you keep failing me, I will make it so that none of you can reproduce again."
He turned to the fake Astragel. "Send them to every planet. Let them conquer, rule, spread their seed, and create a new hybrid army. Let's see how the Rangers respond this time. We are hitting them fast and effectively. Let's end this once and for all."
Without another word, Azathoth vanished into the shadows, leaving the weeping, cursed kingdom behind.