The silence of the tent was unlike any Vastarael had ever known in the Fallen Bridge.
He stirred.
A slow inhale filled his lungs as the ache of his body whispered gently through his nerves. He opened his eyes to the soft hue of magenta and warm amber lighting the walls of the tent, likely conjured by Elyonari to keep the area lit while he was unconscious.
His gaze shifted… and there she was.
Elyonari sat beside his bedroll, her long hair cascading down her shoulders in disheveled waves. Her head rested gently against the edge of his mattress. She didn't stir when he moved. She was completely spent. Her bow still lay slung across her back, and her robe had long since fallen loose at her shoulders. One of her hands clutched his tightly.
His brow furrowed.
Omniphage must have activated during his unconscious state, feeding on her Soul Energy as his body naturally sought recovery. Elyonari hadn't let go even as it drained her slowly. And yet… she held on.
A soft sigh escaped his lips.
"You're more reckless than I am," he murmured beneath his breath. "I'm an Aeterium. I need more Soul Energy than usual you know. Only be being a Divine can I access my own Soul Energy instead of relying on Omniphage..."
He slowly pried her fingers free, gently lowering her onto the bedroll beside him. She stirred faintly, her eyes twitching behind closed lids, locked in the throes of a dream—maybe even a nightmare—but her breathing soon calmed when he pressed two fingers to her forehead.
He murmured a calming word in the ancient tongue of the Aeterium, a soft soothing incantation that wove itself through the air. Her tense brow relaxed.
"...Beautiful," he muttered.
Vastarael sat back, exhaling. Then, he pulled open his inventory and retrieved a dark, weathered hoodie. He slipped it over his bare torso. The fabric clung to his skin with comforting familiarity.
It was then it all came flooding back. The dream, the bedchamber of Erna, her solemn voice echoing in the shadowed tapestry of his mind.
"There are two ways…"
He had delivered his message to Adelasta and warned her, even though the connection across her Bane had been distorted and agonizing to invoke. He remembered watching the message slip away. Now… it was time to begin.
His hand clenched into a loose fist. If every Sentient Krepsuna had turned just like the ones in Central… then Zarvana, Seyna, Raika, and Veyn…
His expression didn't shift. No emotion flared. They're already gone. Not that he particularly cared. They had power, yes. But he'd used them for a purpose, a goal far larger than them, larger than him.
"They served their role."
But the numbers... they haunted him.
Zarvana had once bragged during their camp briefings that over 500,000 Krepsunas dwelled in the zones of the Fallen Bridge. If the Frozen God had infected every single one of them…
Killing all of them within two weeks? It was an absurdity. A literal impossibility. Not even an army of ten Divine-level beings could hope to do that without years of preparation.
But then he thought about it logically,.
If the Frozen God wanted him dead, and he did, Vastarael was certain of it. The corrupted hordes would come to him.
He wouldn't need to hunt them down. They would gather, crashing toward him like a continent-wide flood. After all, he had slaughtered so many of their own for three and a half years with his army.
And that... that was exactly what he wanted. He had no intention of winning a war by conventional means. After all, he already made his plan for two and a half years ever since he came to the Fallen Bridge.
Vastarael's fingers flexed slowly, his hand settling atop his knee. His mind churned. The Frozen God.
The name alone was enough to fracture the resolve of most Divine beings, let alone those still clawing for Ascension. A Forgotten Rank Krepsuna… a monster sealed by Spheraphase herself, a Supreme Entity.
Two weeks.
Just 20 days left before that reality-inverting parasite of ice emerged into a world wholly unprepared for what was coming. He could not stop it, not even with the full power of the Seventh Enlightenment.
But…
He had a plan. There was an alternative to becoming Divine. Also, he wanted to go see the Amorphous Souls in the Submerged Islands. But to succeed, he couldn't go alone. He needed someone capable of matching him stride for stride, breath for breath. Someone stronger.
"Narisva Starisnova," he whispered aloud.
She was the only one. The cocky, irreverent juggernaut of their generation. He knew she would never admit it, but she surpassed every other Ascender, even himself. And if he could get her on his side, this gambit might just work.
But first… he needed to purge the Fallen Bridge not of Krepsunas. That would take too long. He had to get everyone else out. If the Frozen God awakened, this place would become a continent-sized tomb. And to do that…
He raised his head, gaze sharp and unblinking as he stared into nothingness.
"...Can you hear me?"
At first, there was only silence. But then, as if the world itself exhaled, a tremor of sound pulsed through the air.
And then came the voice.
No one else could hear it..
"You call upon EPOCH," it whispered. "Why?"
Vastarael didn't flinch. He stared forward.
"I want to make a deal."
The silence that followed was louder than thunder. Then… laughter.
"What could you possibly offer me, child of Aeterium? You have nothing. You bleed. You ache. You crawl through mud and shadow. I am EPOCH."
He smirked.
"And I'm Vastarael Richinaria. A Royal Aeterium."
The laughter halted instantly.
"I don't have to offer anything. I'm one of the royalty of the Ancient Races. I inherit the progeny of the creators and I walk this world at its demand. If anything… you should be offering me something."
EPOCH went deathly silent. The weight of her displeasure could be felt in the very folds of space around him.
"...You dare..."
He didn't flinch. "I dare because I'm about to do something absurd at the end of these two weeks. And if you don't hear me out, you'll miss the only chance you have to remain relevant."
The words echoed like knives dipped in thunder. Yet, EPOCH listened. For minutes, Vastarael laid out his plan. And when he was done, she said nothing.
Then—
"No."
He narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"
"If I allow this, your parents will hunt me down. The Nexuses of Aeterium do not forgive."
He gave a small chuckle, low and graveled from exhaustion.
"Then just tell them it was my idea. They'll believe you."
EPOCH hissed. "You're reckless beyond sense."
"But I'm right."
"...Very well. I will support this… plan. But if your kin try to erase me from existence, I will remind them whose Cycle this was."
He grinned.
"You always wanted to leave your mark. Now's your chance."
A deal… with a Nexus-level entity. It was insanity. And yet, it was the only way.
He looked at Elyonari, still asleep.
If this worked… if he followed through with this plan… the world would never look at him the same again.
But if it failed…
He would never see the world again.