There was once a man who twisted realities to make himself invincible.
Many tried to take him down but any wound they inflicted would instantly heal.
Any blow they dealt would roll off like running a finger through still water
And even death himself was powerless to seperate this once mortal from his soul.
All the while he decimated everything he touched.
Millions were corrupted as billions died.
Entire worlds collapsed from within as he became more powerful then anything we had ever imagined.
Hope became thin as the powers that be began planning for the nuclear option.
Erasing existence and leaving this mad man the ruler of nothing.
Then at the eleventh hour, a miracle happened as we found the one thing that made him vulnerable.
The one he loved.
Because physical damage can be mitigated, you can train to overcome mental anguish.
But even the greatest of monsters can’t defend their heart from those who force their way in.
Isn’t that right Collector?
Just like that multiversal threat so long ago, you have been near unstoppable since you first portaled into this Slaughterhouse.
A man possessed, willing to do anything to get what he needs no matter the cost to the world around you.
You lose simple battles but every single war you have fought in has ended in your favor.
The crystals, impossible relics of power became mere playthings in your hand.
Keeper and deities and heroes alike fell at your feet, as with each victory, the power that flickered in your hands grew expodentially.
Until you walked into the den of ruin, extinguished the ideals of emotions and came within inches of decimating the one true constant in this universe.
Terrifying the greatest power in the universe to the point he squanders an entire organisation, divulges his greatest secret and promises things that sicken him to his very core.
All just to find the one chink in your armor.
The legacy of a family you didn’t know you needed until they were gone.
See men like you don’t fight for power or control or selfish reasons.
You fight to protect those you love or fix mistakes that cost you them.
Because those four might have been tools to wield to begin with but soon they became a reason to exist.
And now they’re gone, all you feel is rage and anguish and fear.
A broken man standing so close, yet so far from his goal.
Hurt, betrayed, broken as you surround yourself with strangers and enemies.
All the while you stare down the barrel of a gun, cocked and loaded by someone you can’t help but love.
Because Sanctus is just a tool for Death to destroy you.
Just like we used his love to tear him apart.
To make him choose between her and immortality.
And when he chose her and gave it all up
We killed them both.
And unless you can let go of the legacy that binds you,
History shall repeat itself once more.