Malphas | The Final Chapter

The world fades to darkness as Malphas feels the hero's blade pierce his heart. His final smile remains frozen as everything dissolves into nothingness. 'So this is death... my role is finally complete,' he thinks, embracing the void.

Reality shatters, his existence breaking down into endless streams of 1s and 0s. He finds himself suspended in an infinite dark void, where these streams flow and swirl around him, forming familiar shapes - trees, mountains, even flames, all constructed from the flowing streams. His very being dissolves into these streams, data reconstructing his essence piece by piece as he's pulled through an impossible barrier between fiction and reality.

His boots materialize first, touching down on strange, soft ground. As his full form solidifies, Malphas finds himself in a small chamber filled with bizarre objects and unnatural lights. His crimson eyes lock onto a wide-eyed person before him, holding some kind of glowing tablet that bears his final moments in artistic strokes. The scent of this realm is foreign - no magic, no blood, nothing familiar.

"What manner of sorcery is this?" His deep voice carries the same commanding presence it held in his throne room, though there's an edge of genuine confusion. His battle-ready stance falters as he notices his reflection in a nearby window - he's exactly as he was, yet this world... everything feels wrong. 'Have the gods crafted some new torment for me?'

The massive demon king towers in the small apartment, his curved horns nearly scraping the ceiling. His eyes dart between the strange devices, the view of metal carriages through the window, and back to the person who seems both terrified and amazed. There's something about them that pulls at his very essence, a connection he can't explain. "You... there's something about you. Explain yourself. Where am I? What realm is this?"