Day 724[1] in Jerrica's Labyrinth
Torrents of indigo-hued energy blazed around me, spiraling upward like sacred fire from an eldritch inferno. The air cracked with tension, space warping around the edges of my aura as my glowing purple eyes zeroed in on Sol's location. My body felt different—elevated—as if my very soul was thrumming in a higher octave. Behind me, two vast wings of pure mana had erupted from my back, semi-transparent and luminous, like celestial sails woven from starlight and chaos. They flexed instinctively, demonic bat-like structures vibrating with turbulent motion before flapping just once.
The flap alone was enough. I lifted from the ground with a calm, deliberate hover that mimicked Sol's natural float, though I could tell she didn't like what she saw. My aura was no longer just ultraviolet—now it was dancing violently with streaks of ultramarine. From it, random jolts of vermilion lightning snapped across my limbs, tracing my veins like living circuits. I gritted my teeth as I tried to adjust to the rush of energy pouring through me. The wind had started to howl around me, not from any natural force, but from the turbulence of raw, untempered magick now spiraling off my body.
And still… I could feel it. Something new.
It was unlike anything I'd experienced before. There was a gnawing, primal urge—no hunger, but something worse. A push, rising like magma behind my sternum, telling me to destroy anything in front of me. Not because I hated it. Not because it deserved it. But because I could. It was a lust for chaos. A sharpened, blood-dipped curiosity for obliteration.
But I didn't hate Sol. Not at all. So why the hell was this emotion gripping my spine and rattling my ribs like I was possessed?
I could only think that it was the transformation—[Neutrino Devil] was active, and it was showing me that this was a side effect I hadn't prepared for. My chest thundered. Every instinct screamed to obliterate—yet my eyes stayed fixed on her. I breathed heavily through my nose, doing everything I could to stay grounded.
The infinite graveyard we'd been fighting in? It felt smaller now. Oppressive, even. Synga's crypt loomed in the background like a judge that refused to speak. The orange-tinted crescent moon hadn't moved from its spot above us, frozen in time at its zenith, casting ghostfire shadows across the field of broken headstones and ruptured earth. And Sol? That girl was hovering across from me with her hands on her hips and a look of pure disbelief written all over her cute-ass face.
"Wait a damn minute!" she snapped, wings fluttering behind the fairy queen mid-tantrum. "You didn't say you would be cheating!"
I blinked at her, then smirked. "Cheating? Were rules in place?"
"You know what I mean!" she pouted.
"Stop whining," I shot back, voice low, heat curling at the edges. "You said you wanted to see my capability. Well... this is my strength."
I lifted my right arm and focused. Spiritons spun into existence, like metallic stardust forming in my palm with a swirl of arcane gravity. My fingers curled instinctively as Nautical Sol, my Spirit Weapon pistol, formed without resistance. It felt like an extension of my will now, effortless. With a grin creeping across my face, I aimed and squeezed the trigger.
The discharge was immediate. A bullet of pure Omnis Mana burst from the barrel in a streak of blinding color, shimmering with an iridescence too fast to register. The moment I fired, a new sensation jolted through me—a psychic pulse.
Without warning, a system ping lit up across my internal HUD.
«Skill [Law Breaker] Activated. Prerequisites Met. Auto-Cast Enabled.»
"What the hell?"
It triggered on its own. I hadn't said anything. Hadn't even thought about activating it. [Law Breaker] was supposed to let me bypass any one law or skill effect at a time—it evolved from my old defensive skill, [Mental Ignorance]. And now it was apparently playing quarterback with my combat flow. Definitely something I'd need to investigate later.
The mana bullet smashed into Sol's shoulder, knocking her out of the sky like a bird struck by a comet. She hit the ground with a thud and a puff of dust, rolling once before shrieking—not in rage or anything, but actual surprise.
"Ouchie! You big fucking meanie! That shit hurts!"
I floated above, still charged, confused.
"Huh? What?"
"I just wanted you to grab onto me a bit!" she whined, rolling to her side with a dramatic pout. "Maybe kiss me like the other two, but you go and fucking shoot me?"
"I'm sorry—I-I didn't…" My voice trailed off.
"Man, it hurts. Shiesh. Dickhead."
I blinked, baffled. "What... what the hell was going on?"
After all that—after she blew my skull open in round one—I had taken this whole thing as a death match. But now? She was making me feel like the asshole. That was a masterclass in disarming someone. Her aura was completely shut down, too—no aggression, no tension. She was done. Which made me drift closer, still hovering, trying to make sure this wasn't a trap.
She looked up at me with those damned heart-shaped pupils, squinting at me like I was the villain in her rom-com.
"Look," she said, voice softer now. "Maybe I went too far with shooting you in the head and all. But I knew you wouldn't die. I didn't think it was gonna make you all mad and stuff."
"Well… that would piss off anyone who could survive it," I said, still watching her cautiously.
"I know now. I'm sorry."
And just like that, the fight in me drained. I stared down at her—at this beautiful, chaotic woman who had every reason to keep shooting, but instead was lying there apologizing like we were lovers post-argument.
I landed beside her, the weight of my power curling inward as my feet touched the cracked soil. Kneeling, I summoned a slow-burning orb of Angel Mana in my palm. The light was warm, glowing like a small sun made of feathers and silk. I pressed it gently to her bleeding shoulder. The moment it touched, the flesh knitted itself whole again, her pain evaporating into steam.
"Is that better?" I asked.
"Tons," she said, smiling at me. "Thanks, baby."
"Now, be a good girl."
"Fine," she sighed. "I've never really been a fighter."
Before I could answer, she grabbed my arm and pulled me forward, guiding me down into a kiss that stole the air from my lungs. Her lips were soft but demanding, and as her mana poured into me like warm honey wrapped in sunlight, I felt my [Neutrino Devil] form unravel. I hadn't even realized I'd dropped it until the pressure in my chest faded.
The kiss was…intimate. More than lust. More than curiosity. It had that same burning tenderness I'd felt with Karma. With Kyttin. Something that whispered of Omnia's mark—no doubt left anymore.
She pulled back with a grin.
"I submit, handsome."
«Requirements met, activating [Soul Contract]. Connecting both parties. Establishing service and empowerment.»
Her body shimmered as she smiled, eyes still heavy with sultry intent. Then she dissolved—cerulean energy erupting from her like a flower blooming backward, petals of spirit matter evaporating into the air. The mist flowed into me, gentle yet overwhelming. My soul drank her in.
«Power distribution complete. The contract is placed at 85% to 15%. The [Soul Binding] shall now proceed.
Adjusting the ability skill [Guardian Armament].
A new Guardian Armament, [Blue Queen: Chomei Sol], has been installed.
A new ultra skill called [Love/Hate] has been installed.
New personal subskills [Miyana's Rejection], [Probability Manipulation], [Polarity Manipulation], and [Attraction Manipulation] installed.
Readjusting personal skills [Immortal Connection], [Skill Tree Link], [Master's Command], and [Master's Gifts].
Raising the magickal power on Pure Seed Soul, Xiro Mikazuki, by 30%.
The [Soul Binding] is complete.»
And just like that, Nautical Sol was no more.
She had become Chomei Sol.
My Blue Queen.
After experiencing that rush of information again and again throughout my journey, I'd become weirdly familiar with the sensation of unlocking multiple skills at once. Hell, by now, I was damn near comfortable with it. That electric crackle in my spine. The splitting headache that never stayed long enough to kill me but sure liked to remind me I was evolving past sanity. I'd gotten used to it, like learning how to breathe underwater after almost drowning. But this time? This time was different.
It started with a pull.
A strange vibration rippled out from my Soul Core, but it wasn't like the other times. Nah, this wasn't a simple system install or a regular ol' leveling up. This was alive. My soul didn't just tremble—it sang. Power spiraled out of me in pulses, like the rhythm of a heartbeat... but one synced to some ancient drum only I could hear. A typhoon of energy crackled within, waking up every damn nerve in my body like they were overdue for a light show. Magick and mana bubbled up through my limbs, coiling and twisting inside me like dragons in a dance, refusing to settle.
And then... that mechanical voice of the Prime Realm System echoed in my skull like a divine whisper.
«Completion of the ability skill [Guardian Armament] is successful.
Full installation of Guardian Armament [Twilight Goddess: Omnia] has been installed.
The Ultra Skill [Heaven's Kaleidoscope] has been fully installed.
Restriction removal complete.»
"I can—" I started, but I didn't even finish.
My body snatched the rest of that sentence right outta my throat. I was hit with a sudden rush of nausea so violent, I damn near folded in half. My stomach did a full backflip while my vision blurred into white static. It was like getting high and seasick at the same time while riding a roller coaster through space. My knees almost gave out, and I felt an aggressive tug on my Bio Mana—not a pull, a full-on suction. Like something was draining me to the last drop.
That's when the magick appeared.
The air cracked with pressure as the ambient energy twisted and flared. Sparkles of raw mana drifted in like cosmic fireflies—black, blue, and red spirals of light dancing across the clearing. They formed an elegant spiral, a beautiful, chaotic helix that condensed into a new color I'd always love. Midnight purple. Dark—rich, alive, glowing like the horizon during the final seconds before night kisses the last sunlight goodbye. The energy took form, thick with divinity, and stepped forward... as a woman.
She was both familiar and completely new.
Her skin glistened like a night sky in full moonlight, kissed with this surreal jade undertone that gave her an almost aquatic radiance. Like moonlight reflecting on ocean waves. Her arms and the center of her torso glowed a softer lavender hue that shimmered in harmony with her deeper blue, a palette that felt... designed, deliberate. Like a creature evolved from beauty itself. Her shape carried this strange natural balance, like the color placement on a four-legged beast—intentional, primal, and regal.
"...Do I know you?" I asked, voice barely more than a whisper.
Then I truly saw her.
The shape of her hips, those damn devilish curves—absurd in a way that reminded me of Karma, enough to make me believe reality had glitched just to birth her. Two twin cat-like tails moved behind her like shy dancers—nervous, flirtatious, adorable. A breeze picked up, just light enough to pull a few strands of her long, silky, midnight-black hair with violet tips across her face like a soft veil. Her chest? Massive. Beautiful. Kyttin-level. And they didn't even try to obey gravity. But then—
The scent. Jasmine and vanilla. Sweet, heady, rich... like a lover's secret you never forget. It caught me by the throat and dragged me closer like a spell that spoke to my primitive side.
But her eyes were the truth that locked it all in place.
Black sclera. Heart-shaped irises and pupils. They gleamed like twin stars soaked in lust and longing, yet radiated something... deeper. Compassion. Power. Pain.
"The Creator," I whispered. "Omnia?"
She smirked, like she'd been waiting for me to say it.
"Still haven't had your fill of staring, huh? Good."
I staggered half a step back, not in fear. Just awe. That weight… heavenly. That presence… was undeniable. It was her. The Creator I met back in Eden. That soul-piercing stare. That overwhelming sense of truth when she looked at you. But she looked... different.
Gone were the masculine-feminine fusion features, the twin sets of breasts, the high heels made of hooves. Gone was the obnoxiously large dick that'd been more than just a visual problem for my mental health. This wasn't the Creator I'd met before. This was lust personified, in a perfectly feminine form that felt too real to question.
"You look different," I muttered. "Fine as fuck."
She tilted her head, giggling like a schoolgirl who just broke a holy rule. "You'll make me blush if you continue down this path, master. But I'm glad you enjoy my appearance. I am modeled after your greatest desire."
"My greatest... desire? Master? Oh yeah, you're my Guardian Armament now. What the hell, Omnia?"
"I love hearing my name roll off your tongue."
She stepped forward, soft and barefoot, her toes curling into the grass with a bounce that was damn near too cute to handle. But in the blink of an eye—bam—she was between my arms. No transition. No flash. Just... there. Her lips found mine like they'd known the path for eons. A kiss I never planned for. One that felt overdue by centuries. Her hands pulled my head down gently as she kissed me like we had lifetimes to make up for. We traded breath, spit, and soul in that moment.
We were naked. Entwined. Vulnerable.
That's when it hit me.
A vision took over my mind—Omnia standing over a massive stone table, the Kiss of Twilight resting before her. The massive greatsword was dripping with black iridescent liquid—blood? No... spiritual essence. The shimmering essence of something far beyond mortal. Every drop glistened with stars and cosmic ink. This sword had just killed Xero, the Archon of Night.
The memory burned its way in.
I saw Omnia carefully gather the spirit liquid from the blade, whispering unknown words as she began experimenting. Studying. She learned the truth—Xero was not just an Outer God. He was a concept. The living embodiment of rebellion, born from Khaos, the Mother of the Void. Xero wasn't made to obey—he was vengeance against Aether, the concept of Order.
But Khaos fucked up.
She couldn't control him.
He broke her strings. Fought her for freedom. In desperation, Khaos begged Aether for help. That union spawned Ophiuchus, the Archon of Day—the first Muon. But even Ophiuchus wasn't enough to handle Xero. So came Destini, Volo, and Chronos. And from them, existence began to shape into order. The Prime Realm System was born.
Omnia… came later.
She was one of the three children of Destini and Volo—Fate and Free Will. A paradox child, forged in contradiction. She wasn't created to love or rule. She was made to hide the weapon that killed an Outer God. A fate she despised.
Destini's act—erasing Xero—earned her the infamous phrase: "Fate cannot be defeated." But that? That was the moment Omnia changed. That was when her rage birthed purpose.
She would destroy her mother.
And to do it, she needed a being powerful enough to rewrite fate.
The only one Destini ever had to drain to near-death just to contain: Xero himself.
But the more Omnia learned, the more she changed. She wasn't immune to mortal folly. Curiosity became empathy. Empathy grew into... love. She didn't want to use Xero anymore.
She wanted to resurrect and be with him.
She created Souls. Soul Cores. Sonata Soul Cores. All as vessels to house his essence. She tested, failed, and repeated, until finally...
Soul XI-0015.
Jean Vinson.
Me.
I was the soil where she could grow Xero again.
And I ain't know whether to be scared, honored... or turned on.
As our lips parted, a warm breath lingered between us, hanging in the cool night air like mist. My eyes slowly refocused, drawn past Omnia's face to the graveyard behind her—its silhouette finally coming into view. The moonlight, fat and heavy above us, broke through the thin clouds and settled directly over us like a divine spotlight. It was almost theatrical. There we were: Omnia suspended in my arms midair. Time bent around us, obedient to our reunion. Like two lost lovers, finally stitched back together by fate's reckless hands.
I couldn't explain the emotion swelling in my chest, but it was loud. A childlike joy thumped in me like the first time you realize someone you like feels the same. I felt stupid grinning, but I couldn't help it. This feeling—it was different than the last time I saw her. Back then, there was confusion, some awe, but this? This was a complete surrender. With Kyttin's magic still buzzing in my chest, Karma's strange emotional sync echoing in my soul, and Chomei's absurdly perfect standards influencing my mind... I was helpless. Completely outmatched. Crippled by the sight of a bad bitch.
And not just any bad bitch. The bad bitch. Omnia.
Looking back, I damn near wanna slap myself for how goofy I probably looked. But love doesn't care how cool you try to act—it just punches you in the throat and leaves you gasping. Yeah, I guess it was love at first sight... all over again.
She pulled back just far enough to lock eyes with me, still cradled in my hold, and said softly, "I know you have many questions, and I'm willing to answer them all. But we can't linger here, my love. You have to return to your home in time... or otherwise, she will die during this time loop."
That cold drop of reality hit me harder than I expected.
"What? What are you talking about? Who will die?"
Omnia brought both her hands to the sides of my head—delicate but firm, like she'd done this before. Her touch was warm. Comforting. Dangerous.
Suddenly, I felt something pull at my soul like a thread being tugged from within my brain. Her fingers pulsed with mana, and before I could stop it, a wave of power rushed through my eyes. It was like molten electricity mixed with lightning and poured behind my retinas. My head snapped back slightly, and my vision warped.
The Ultra Skill activated instantly.
[Heaven's Kaleidoscope].
I gasped, my breath catching as my irises shifted—silver fading into an ultraviolet, the separation into a cerulean blue, then the final section of crimson that pulsed with raw mana glow, creating a gankyil. The air around me crackled as my new vision overloaded my brain with impossible detail. The world exploded into unfamiliar colors—new shades in the electromagnetic spectrum that defied every name I knew. I saw heat as colors, sound as pulsing waves. Tiny particles I never noticed before danced in the air like glowing fireflies, and ripples in space looked like silk sheets shifting in slow motion. Even the mana had texture now. Like velvet smoke laced in gold dust.
It was beautiful.
"Woah…" I muttered, eyes wide and drinking it all in. "This is fucking amazing."
Omnia gave me a small nod. "Focus your mind's eye to see through the eyes of those in your Crest Link."
"The Wolfpak?" I said, still dazed.
"Yes."
I closed my eyes for a moment and focused, doing what she said—focusing my mind's eye. I picked Kimmi. If anyone was near the house, it'd be her. I trusted her instincts.
The vision blinked and then slammed into place, like my skull was suddenly housing two sets of eyes.
I saw the outside of Talasi's north gate.
Kimmi stood in the middle of the chaos. Destruction scarred the landscape—ripped earth, shattered pillars, burning mana mist in the air. Blood stained her arms and hands. Not hers. She was shaking, fists clenched. Three humans stood in front of her, their mana signatures like bass notes shaking the ground. They weren't normal. Not even close.
"What the fuck...?" I whispered. "Was this the past? The present? Or something that hadn't happened yet?"
Then I saw Luda, standing protectively beside her, and behind them, a woman lying unconscious, no, frozen—in a slowed temporal field. Time crawled over her body like molasses, and her chest barely rose and fell. My gaze locked on the outfit she wore: a modified battle gi. It was unmistakable. That design. The flowing cuts. The vibrant red stitching.
My mother's gi.
I didn't want to believe it. My throat tightened as the worst thought crossed my mind.
"Is that her?"
I shut down the [Kaleidoscope Eyes] immediately. My head lowered, shaking as if that'd help me scrub the image from my mind.
"What's going on?" I growled. "That looked like my mother's outfit."
Omnia's expression darkened, the glow from her hair dimming slightly. "You must get to her. You're the only one who can save her from Soul Core deterioration."
My mouth hung open. "My mother's Soul Core is deteriorating?"
I barely had time to process the words when I heard the one sound I absolutely didn't want to hear right now.
«The start of the bonus trial, Assessment of the Off the Wall, will now begin. Locate and defeat the final boss to complete the objective.»
That robotic tone. The Prime Realm System.
I tilted my head back and screamed at the sky. "FUCK ALL THAT. LET ME OUT! My mother's in trouble!"
A pause. Just long enough to make me think it might be listening. Then, the system spoke again—but this time, its voice wasn't robotic.
It was her voice.
Destini.
The Archon of Fate.
«I cannot do that, Xiro. Unless you find your own way back to the Mortal Realm, I can only provide an exit at the end of each trial.»
I stared blankly. "...Bitch."
Omnia snorted softly. "Of course, she's not going to help you. She's the enemy, lova."
Destini—disguised as the system—spoke again. «You should also know that if you choose to abandon the trial prematurely, you'll be punished.»
I clenched my fists. Every muscle in my body tensed. There I was, stuck in another damn dimension, while my family—my mother—was on the brink of death. And the best this glorified power-trip system could do was toss me into another test like I gave a damn about some treasures or an ancient seal.
I didn't care. I couldn't care. Vericka's life was on the line. Let Destini send lightning bolts at my ass. Let her take my skills or turn my blood to lava. I'd deal with it all.
'Cause if there's one thing I wasn't going to play about…
It was my mama.
Meanwhile in Talasi...
4th Day of the 1st Fire Cycle[2], 2000 g.c.
The skies above Talasi were thick with tension—and magitons.
As the sun dipped low behind the Western Ridge, its golden hue stretched long shadows across the blood-drenched streets. That usual calming glow of dusk—the kind that makes you want to sit back, crack open a cold one, and stare into the sky—was now distorted by the eerie, glittering density of mana particles vibrating in the air like static. The three moons began their ascent into view, their pale light shimmering against the flaring mana signatures near the north gate and deep within the residential sector. Every second, more magitons flooded the atmosphere, creating arcs of visible energy—soft rainbow trails crackling through the charged air like cosmic veins. You could taste the magic in the wind: bitter iron and something sweet like ozone laced with smoke.
The city was in chaos. Screams clawed their way through broken windows and shattered doors as fire spread like an uninvited spirit through the streets. Citizens fled through alleys and busted-out shopfronts, dragging children, pets, and what little they could carry. Bodies were already strewn across the central square—some still moving, many not. The destruction was unmistakably surgical. Sixty-two percent of the town—gone. Collapsed towers, burning homes, and even the beloved power station I'd created with electric runes had been reduced to charred mulch and mana-drenched rubble.
Standing in the middle of the storm she created was a figure draped in white, unmoved by the carnage around her—Marzia Judas.
She stood like a queen at a bonfire, breathing in the ruin like it was incense. Her face bore a single blemish—a red, foot-shaped welt across her cheek.
Alex Zo had entered the battlefield.
The Tengu Warlord was unshaken. With his twin blades resting against his shoulders, he stared her down like he'd been waiting for this moment all day. His scarlet eyes narrowed with a tired annoyance, not fear.
"Humans are usually chill when they visit," Alex said, adjusting his grip on his swords. "We even got some that live here. So what the fuck is your problem?"
Marzia's eyes narrowed like slits, her voice gliding through clenched teeth with venomous calm.
"Your existence is my problem. To think that subhuman creatures like you could even speak. I guess I should be amazed."
Alex cocked his head with a squint. "Why do the people who get kicked in the face say the weirdest stuff?"
That pushed her over the edge.
With a flick of her wrists, she unsheathed twin swords, each one the color of polished ruby. Their edges shimmered like gemstone light refracted in water. As she began her chant—low, rhythmic, and spoken in a language as old as Gaia's moons—Fire Mana erupted around her feet. It crackled and swirled like a newborn wildfire, but it wasn't normal. These flames had a yellow undertone, and as they licked her body and blades, they turned almost white—heavenly in nature, divine and searing.
"Burn with the light of the supreme—Superior Angel Gem Mana: Aries Blessing!"
The cobblestone beneath her melted in spots. Charred embers floated into the air like fireflies as the pressure of her mana thickened. Shattered homes and cracked statues crumbled under the weight of her energy. Her silken cloak lifted slightly from the sheer force rising off her skin.
Then, she launched.
A burst of heat and divine fury closed the distance between them in a blink. Her twin swords slammed down against Alex's in a shower of sparks and mana bursts, the force of their clash blowing nearby stalls clean off their hinges.
Steel clashed against enchanted steel, swipes and parries moving faster than the average eye could track. Every swing was a chorus of sound—clink, clank, whoosh, bang. It was almost musical, a violent symphony in a minor key as sparks danced between each movement. They ducked and weaved, slashing in fluid arcs, their blades a blur of red and silver.
But then, Marzia slipped through.
A sharp upward stab from her left sword drove into Alex's upper thigh, cutting through flesh and muscle like it was silk. He grunted as pain surged through him, the divine heat of her Holy Fire singing his nerves like acid. She followed it up with a kick to his chest, sending him flying into a vendor stall marked "Crispy Hen, Extra Crunchy." Wood and feathers exploded in every direction.
Alex groaned from the heap of broken timber and fried bird parts. Blood trickled down his leg, bubbling slightly from the residual heat.
"Youch," he spat. "Damn Holy Fire stings." He looked down at the wound as his body started healing, albeit slower than usual. "Aight then. She wanna play like that."
From the shattered remains of the vendor stall, Alex stood tall once more as he began to gather his mana.
The air changed again.
Cold and flowing like a frozen waterfall, Yin Mana began to spiral around him. Then came Fire Mana—bright orange and angry. The two forces collided and mixed in a dazzling dance, sparking violently. The fusion created a dark, dense aura that clung to his skin like oil, slowly converting into Hellfire Mana. Shadows curled around his body, dancing like serpents, and his eyes glowed a deeper, more sinister azure.
"Crescent Moon Blade," he shouted, blades raised high as the Hellfire engulfed them. "Twin Crescent Slash!"
With a fierce, clean cut in an X-shaped arc, two waves of black-burning mana surged forward. They tore across the air like sonic booms, the ground splitting in their wake. Mana hissed through the wind as the flaming crescents zeroed in on Marzia.
She had no time to dodge.
Raising both her swords, she attempted to brace herself, arms crossed in defense—but the Hellfire struck with a fury that surpassed her divine shielding. She was launched back, her body crashing through a three-story shopfront like a cannonball. Glass shattered, wood split, and the entire top floor came down behind her in a plume of dust and debris.
The street went silent.
Ash floated through the air like snow. Alex stood still, blades lowered, breathing heavy but calm.
But that silence didn't last.
A pulse of dread rippled across the battlefield—a gut-deep, teeth-chattering vibration that felt like an earthquake in the soul. The debris began to stir. Chunks of wall and glass floated upwards unnaturally, separating themselves as if commanded by a will stronger than gravity.
Marzia stepped out of the wreckage, untouched by the collapse.
A halo of divine energy shimmered around her, brighter than before. Her hair fluttered in the unnatural wind, and her wounds—if she had any—were completely gone. Her eyes glowed with a light that felt wrong. Not heavenly, not holy—just untouchable. Like she was no longer bound by the rules of the fight.
She smiled at Alex.
Not a smirk. Not a taunt. A sinister, knowing smile—like she had finally gotten serious.
The fight was far from over.
The chaos outside Talasi's main gate had evolved into two brutal showcases of battle. The sky shimmered with charged magitons, each spark bending reality like a heat‑mirage. From above, the sky looked like an artist's fever dream, streaked with rose gold from the setting. But there was no serenity here. No calm. The ground trembled with power and pressure as the Wolfpak clashed with the invading Saint Disciples—each strike, spell, and shout echoing against the stone walls like thunderclaps.
On one side of the field, Steez faced off against Novara and Decima, his [Afternoon Star: Belphegor] activated and blazing with momentum. His figure flickered like a mirage, too fast for the untrained eye to follow. He darted in and out of range with blur-step precision, his aura streaking with cobalt light as friction and heat marked his trail. Decima lunged with sharp stabs of her rapier while Novara stayed behind her, using wind-based boosts to shift them both quickly, plugging any gaps in their formation.
Despite Steez's advantage in speed, it was like fighting a two-headed beast. One head defended while the other struck, and they alternated that rhythm with practiced synchronicity. He slashed for Novara's exposed ribs, but Decima's rapier intercepted. A blink later, he went for Decima's throat, only for Novara to propel them both back with a gust. Their teamwork was airtight. He respected that.
But respect didn't mean patience. He couldn't afford to stall—not while Mom was still dying. His mana pool was already ticking down past the seventy-five percent mark, and these two weren't letting up. He couldn't drag this out. He gritted his teeth, breathing heavily, calculating.
"Lock in, Steez."
Meanwhile, on the far left flank of the gate, Kimmi-Wu was fighting what looked like a losing battle against Krystal, the feral archer who seemed more sprite than human. Krystal danced between rooftops and scaffoldings like a windborn assassin, her arrows conjured from shimmering sapphire mana. She fired them in elegant arcs, raining down volleys that blazed with magic, each impact exploding in a burst of raw energy.
Kimmi, more brawler than tactician, had little choice but to take cover beneath her [Heat Dome], a shimmering barrier of cerulean-yellow mana that rippled like molten glass. Each arrow that struck it sizzled against the surface, releasing shocks of steam and sound that kept her pinned. Sweat poured down Kimmi's face as she tried to think. This wasn't a fight she could punch her way through. Not yet.
Further down the battlefield, Luda was running his own campaign of devastation—and doing it like he had something to prove. The air around him pulsed and warped with concentrated magick as floating portals opened beside him like blooming black lilies, each one spitting out razor-sharp mana constructs: spears, blades, hammers, chains. They flew toward Jojo like angry spirits, cutting the space between them into a deadly grid.
Jojo, to his credit, was still alive. Barely. His [Unrequited Luck] kept bailing him out with impossible dodges, his body moving just fast enough to escape instant death again and again. But it was exhausting. Luda hadn't even moved from his original position. Not once.
Then there was Roxy—oh, Roxy was on one. The Meridian Goddess spun in her hands like a glittering crescent of doom, launching outward toward Januelle with lethal grace. The lion-tailed woman was like a pink-eyed storm given form. Her strikes were precise, disciplined, but brutal, giving Januelle no room to assist Jojo without opening herself to destruction.
Januelle's blade met the Meridian Goddess mid-spin with a crack that echoed like steel cracking bone. The force of the impact sent vibrations down her spine, but she held strong. As the Spirit Weapon spiraled into the sky, she stepped back—but Roxy was already there, a blue glyph pulsing in her palm.
"Water Mana Arts: Hydro Dragon!" Roxy's voice was sharp as ice, and the triangle of water mana shimmered with pressure. It roared forward like a coiling serpent, jaws open.
But Januelle's instincts kicked in before thought could. The gem on her necklace gleamed with a frozen glow.
"Superior Ice Gem Mana: Tears of Cocytus."
The world shifted. The heat dropped like a stone into a frozen lake. Air itself stiffened and slowed. Water in the nearby soil snapped into icicles, and Roxy's incoming spell froze mid-roar, shattering like glass in the space between them.
Roxy leapt back instantly, catching the returning Meridian Goddess with one hand, her eyes never breaking from Januelle's. That wasn't a warrior's gaze anymore—that was a hunter's. Focused. Watching. Calculating.
Januelle kept her guard up, her sword glowing faintly with residual frost.
"Lift your leer, monster," she hissed, her breath fogging in the cold air. "You will find no fear in these eyes."
Roxy tilted her head. "You humans are quite the pretentious bunch. My king seeks your end, therefore, I must oblige."
"Just another slave to a man's will and ego. Free yourself, sister, for no man should hold such power over you."
"I only exist for that man's desire," Roxy said, her voice devoid of doubt. "Your words hold no power to sway me."
She lunged again.
And just like that, the skirmish snapped back into chaos. The clanging of steel and the roaring of mana were a constant song in the battlefield's background. It became clear this was no longer about territory. No longer about ideology.
This was war.
And everyone was fighting like they had something left to lose.
The twilight sky was bleeding into itself—colors melting like spilled wine across the heavens. Streaks of crimson and violet danced across the dying light of Gaia's cerulean sun as it slid behind the horizon like it was ducking away from the carnage below. A shadow of tension settled over the battlefield. You could feel it. Like the earth knew something was shifting.
That's when Roxy felt it.
The link that tied her to Luda as his Guardian Armament shivered, thinned... then snapped. Her body, once glowing faintly with embedded sigils of Mana Bond, pulsed once, and the energy that gave her physical presence as a summoned being began to unravel. First, her tail shimmered into motes of light, then her hands lost their definition, as if mist was claiming her piece by piece. The massive weapon she wielded with divine grace disintegrated in her grip, dissolving into golden threads that the wind dared not scatter. She gave Luda a final, almost apologetic glance before she vanished without a single word.
Luda gasped. Like someone had just yanked the soul out of his chest.
The truth hit him before he even checked his Mana Pool—he was spent. Calling a Guardian Armament Summon was no petty feat. It was the first time he'd attempted such a high-tier summon in a real fight. And now, the cost reared its ugly fangs. His body staggered from the weightless wave of exhaustion. His stomach clenched, his knees buckled slightly—nausea crawling up his throat like venom. The world spun, and it wasn't because of the fight.
Jojo saw it. Jojo felt it. That dip in pressure, that moment of weakness… and he jumped at it like a starving wolf.
With a sharp breath, Jojo extended a hand and summoned his Spirit Weapon.
"Dusk."
The name cut through the air as the weapon took form: a sinister, crescent scythe of onyx metal that flickered with erratic silver veins. It howled as it came down, pulled by Jojo's full weight and every ounce of bloodlust he'd swallowed during the battle.
It was coming fast—too fast.
But the Meridian Goddess reappeared in Luda's hand just in time, summoned on instinct. Steel clashed. Sparks exploded. The impact rang out across the battlefield like the cracking of thunder. Luda's arms trembled under the force, but the weapon held. Barely.
A few meters away, Januelle stood quietly.
Her eyes—those merciless, High Human orbs—scanned the chaos around her. Krystal kept Kimmi pinned under a rain of arrows. Jojo had Luda tangled. Steez was still in a blur of motion with Decima and Novara. And Roxy… was gone.
And at her feet—helpless, still—was the Demon Lord. Vericka.
"Perfect."
She moved silently, a whisper in armor, her blade glinting with righteous purpose. The silver filigree of her longsword caught the last remnants of daylight as she raised it over Billie Holiday's still form, spinning it into a reverse grip to pierce straight into her chest.
No war cry. No fanfare. Only cold execution.
Kimmi saw it. Even through the hailstorm of mana arrows, she felt it in her bones.
"No! Momma!"
Januelle didn't flinch.
"Die, Demon Lord. I hope you rot in the hells."
The sword fell.
And Gaia held its breath.
The wind stopped. The clouds paused their drift. Even the flames of distant mana bursts froze mid-flicker. Time itself seemed to hesitate, as if the world didn't want to watch what came next.
But the blade never reached its target.
It froze. Inches from Vericka's chest.
Not caught by a hand. Not parried.
Stopped.
By something else. An invisible force, dense and immovable. Januelle pushed down harder, and her blade quivered in resistance, like she was trying to drive it through solid steel. But it wasn't a block. It was rejection. Like two magnets of the same polarity forcing each other apart. Her blade couldn't move forward. Wouldn't move.
"What…?" Her lips barely moved.
That's when the air changed.
Right above her, a circle of indigo opened. Not a gentle portal, but a yawning wound in space—its edge humming with malicious geometry and ancient glyphs. Mana leaked from it like thick smoke, falling in wisps of black and ultraviolet tendrils. The temperature dropped, but not to any frost. No, this wasn't cold. It was an absence. A chilling wave of despair—not grief, but the purest dread that something unspeakable had arrived.
Yoona's body, unconscious moments ago, twitched. Her heartbeat began to rise, as if she, too, recognized the danger approaching.
Steez was the first to speak. "He's finally here."
Luda's hand clenched tighter on the Meridian Goddess. "Took his sweet damn time."
Kimmi's whole body shivered, but her lips curved into a grin. "Big Brother? You assholes are in trouble now!"
And I was.
Finally.
There was no more negotiating. No more trick plays or half-measures. That damn labyrinth Destini dumped me in was in pieces, and I was done playing her little games. I didn't care if she locked the sun itself behind some riddle. I'd burn the sky if I had to.
Because nobody touches my family.
Wake up, Velonica.
Your devil's home.
[End of Chapter]
[1] Year 5.
[2] April on Earth