Chroma and The red dragon

The shattering of the seal, an event prophesied only in fragmented whispers across the fractured timelines, began not with a bang, but a roar. Angelus, the crimson dragon once condemned to eternal servitude, now a goddess of impossible power, had broken free. Her emergence wasn't a benevolent ascension; it was a cataclysm. Her very existence warped reality, twisting the familiar landscapes of the Origin System into nightmarish parodies of their former selves. Amidst this chaotic maelstrom, a figure of terrifying grace moved with predatory precision: Chroma, the Warframe, his draconic form a terrifying echo of Angelus’s own. Unlike other Warframes, bound by their operator's will, Chroma's actions were his own, fuelled by a hunger as ancient and consuming as Angelus's own. He carved a bloody path through the shattered remnants of the Orokin civilization and the desperate remnants of the Tenno, his power a mirror image of the dragon goddess’s, each kill further unraveling the fabric of spacetime. His methods were brutal, efficient, and chillingly devoid of mercy; he slaughtered his brethren, the other Warframes, their once-sacred energy consumed to fuel his terrifying ascent. The very air crackled with anticipation of the inevitable clash between these two titans of destruction, two beings woven from the same raw, terrifying power. The question wasn't if they would fight, but when, and what would remain when the dust settled.

The conflict wasn’t a straightforward battle of might; it was a clash of ideologies, a dance of destruction choreographed across warped realities. Chroma, despite his draconic form and overwhelming power, was driven by a chilling sense of purpose, a relentless pursuit of something beyond mere annihilation. Angelus, meanwhile, embodied untamed chaos, her fury a storm that consumed everything in its path. Their battles tore holes in the fabric of reality, creating temporal rifts that spat forth monstrous aberrations and echoes of forgotten ages. The Lotus, once a guiding light for the Tenno, was silenced, her attempts to intervene swallowed by the sheer power of the conflict. The Grineer, the Corpus, even the Infested, were mere pawns in a war that transcended their petty squabbles. Chroma's relentless pursuit seemed focused on a singular objective – to reach the source of the temporal anomalies, a nexus point of reality where Angelus’s power originated, believing that by severing the source, he could repair the damage she wrought. He was a grim reaper, not only of Warframes, but of timelines, sacrificing countless realities to achieve his goal. The consequences of their conflict threatened to erase not only the Origin System, but the very fabric of existence itself.

The final confrontation took place not on a battlefield, but at the heart of a collapsing reality, a swirling vortex of temporal energy. Chroma, his armor scarred and battered, stood defiant against Angelus, her form a colossal silhouette against the backdrop of collapsing worlds. Their final clash wasn't a display of brute force, but a terrifying exchange of power that reshaped the very fabric of existence. Chroma, having absorbed the energy from countless realities, channeled it into a final, devastating blow, severing the link to the temporal anomaly. Angelus, her power waning with the closing of the rift, dissolved into a shower of crimson sparks, her reign of chaos finally at an end. The victory however was pyrrhic. Chroma, exhausted and drained, collapsed, the stolen power spent. The Origin System was irrevocably changed, a fractured landscape of shattered timelines and unpredictable realities, a testament to the destructive power of two beings who danced on the edge of oblivion. The silence that followed was a profound testament to the devastation, a chilling prelude to an uncertain future, a future where the ghosts of the fallen, both Warframes and worlds, still echoed in the broken spacetime.