The Immortals of Nototriouslandia
Chapter Four: The Door of Never
It began with silence.
The battlefield—once a city center, now a graveyard of skyscrapers and twisted metal—breathed in stillness. Above, the sun was strangled by clouds, the sky painted in red and ash. The ground itself pulsed, as if Notoriouslandia awaited its judgment.
On one side stood Monday and his ragtag team of liberated prisoners. Bloodied, bruised, but unbroken.
On the other, the thing that was no longer a man—Septiceye, crowned in glitching flame, his body a nightmarish collage of muscle, tech, bone, and darkness. He towered now, bloated with the Gauntlet's power, shifting between forms like flickering lights in a thunderstorm.
His army shrieked behind him, thousands deep—citizens stripped of will, puppets of hate, and beasts of warped science and corrupted sorcery.
But Monday didn't flinch.
"This ends now," he said quietly, eyes glowing violet.
And then the sky fell.
The battle ignited.
Bruno was the first to charge, fists like meteors. He collided with Septiceye's vanguard, his punches cracking bone and steel alike. Each time he was knocked down, he rose again—unshakable, furious, raw.
Zeke slipped through the enemy ranks like a phantom, stabbing from behind, dragging enemies into shadowy vortexes. Bullets and blades passed through him like mist, and wherever he flowed, terror followed.
Vera stood at the center, unleashing waves of sound that tore the air apart—blasting enemies into walls, turning shrieks into weapons, screaming songs of defiance. Her voice was a weapon older than war itself.
And Monday—
Monday floated above them all.
Hands raised, power radiating from every inch of him. Cars lifted, shattered, and reassembled into massive psychic weapons. Gravity folded around his enemies. Flames laced with celestial light spiraled around him. He was no longer just a boy—he was becoming a force.
They carved through the enemy forces like lightning through dry forest.
But Septiceye could not be stopped.
Every wound he received twisted into more arms, more mouths, more weapons. He adapted. Every attack taught him more. Vera's screams? Absorbed. Zeke's phasing? Replicated. Bruno's strength? Matched, and overpowered. Even Monday's psychic onslaught began to strain.
The battlefield trembled as Septiceye summoned a storm of void energy, raining down spears of anti-light that turned the ground to sludge. He laughed with every death. Every scream.
"You are dust shouting at the tide," he growled, voice layered with a thousand others. "I am the ocean now."
But Monday had been waiting for something else.
A signal.
From far in the ruined city, a light blinked.
The Door.
It had been buried beneath Notoriouslandia for centuries—a gate of cosmic stone, etched with the languages of lost gods. The Immortals had found it, long ago. They had never used it. It was a last resort.
Now, Monday called it.
With a surge of his mind, the ground cracked, and from the depths of the city rose a monumental door—twenty stories high, engraved with glowing glyphs, sealed in chains of burning starlight and whispered spells.
Septiceye turned.
"What is that?""That," Monday said, "is where we send monsters we can't kill."
The team converged.
They fought their way to the Door, luring Septiceye closer.
Bruno tackled him into the street, holding his limbs down.
Zeke wrapped chains of spectral energy around his shifting necks.
Vera screamed a resonance that tore open the air, weakening the monster's form.
And Monday—levitating above it all—summoned the final power granted by the Immortals. His eyes burned with the light of three fallen legends.
"Arthur's fire.""Technical's mind.""Lux's stars."
He broke reality for a moment—stretching time thin—long enough to push Septiceye into the Door.
The chains snapped shut.
Septiceye writhed, his mouths screaming in unison.
"You think this will hold me?! I am inevitable!"
The door responded with silence.
The chains wrapped tighter—magic, gravity, code, time.Runes ignited, burned into the very fabric of existence.
And with one final scream that echoed across dimensions—
The Door of Never slammed shut.
The battlefield went quiet.
The corrupted army fell still. The citizens blinked—free. Their minds returning, memories fractured but intact.
Monday collapsed to his knees, exhausted. His team gathered around him, bruised, smiling.
Septiceye was sealed.
Not dead. Not gone.
But held.
For now.
And across the sky, three stars burned brighter—watching. Waiting.
Until, 1000 years have passed by, this story has been preserved but it is said.
"The seal will be broken in the 1000th year then I shall grant my power to another descendant.
To be continued…