>>150253906
The digital realm cast long, distorted shadows across Kratos’s grim visage. He stood not on a battlefield of blood and steel, but in the ethereal, shifting currents of 4chan’s /co/ board – a chaotic nexus of fleeting thoughts, savage wit, and an endless, churning tide of ephemeral content.

Kratos had seen empires crumble, gods fall, and worlds burn. Yet, here, in this strange, formless æther, he sensed a different kind of fragility, a quiet, vulnerable flame that threatened to be extinguished by the very medium it inhabited. The Death Battle General, in their tireless quest to foster spirited debate on hypothetical skirmishes of power, was a beacon of a forgotten purity, a last bastion against the encroaching nihilism. And Kratos, weary of endless destruction, had found in this absurd, vital task a new, unexpected purpose. He would deliver the spirit of the General’s mission to a place of enduring recognition, or die attempting to forge it himself.

From the swirling chaos of the ether, a figure coalesced – towering, resolute, with eyes that held the wisdom of countless celestial bodies. Omni-Man, the Viltrumite, landed with a barely perceptible ripple in the digital fabric.

“You carry a strange burden, Ghost of Sparta,” Omni-Man began, his gaze piercing. “To guard a fleeting dream in a realm of infinite impermanence. Many would call it folly.” Kratos merely clenched his jaw, his knuckles white against the axe he now held, not as a weapon, but as a symbolic anchor. “It is my burden,” he growled, his voice rough. “A tribute to a spark that refuses to die, even here.”

"Then know this, God of Hope,” Omni-Man said, his voice imbued with solemn power, “I will help you bear this burden, as long as it is yours to bear.”

The words hung in the digital air, a pact forged not in blood, but in the shared recognition of an impossible, vital duty.