Lucien's breath became unsteady. He knelt on the fractured floor of the Crucible battlefield, one knee pressed into cracked stone, the other hovering just above. Every nerve in his body screamed in agony and pain. Every muscle felt like it was on fire. The air around Lucien trembled with the aftershocks of his last Soulfire Pulse to Seryx his face, but the battlefield lay cold and silent—broken pillars, swirling time-rifts curling upward, gravity buckling.
Behind him, distant voices pierced through the emptiness that was inside Lucien.
"LUCIEN! YOU HAVE TO GET UP!" Rylen's roar split the void.
"DON'T GIVE UP, LUCIEN!" Kagetsu's cry soared through the arena.
"WE NEED YOU WITH US!" Lisa´strembling voice held both hope and fear.
Jason's fists clashed together in kinetic energy. Emiluna's soft plea wavered on the edge of tears. Cho, Kisuke, Lisa. They were all calling, screaming, begging for him to get up.
Lucien didn't move a single inch.
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady his ragged breath. Why won't my body respond to me? Every instinct told him to stand up again, to fight till the end, to protect his friends and loved ones. But the weight of his wounds, the exhaustion of pushing beyond his mortal limit, pinned him to the ground.
I… can't. His mind whispered. I'm broken. I´m not strong enough.
A flicker of anger and sadness burned in his chest at the samw time. He shifted his gaze downward to the ring at his heart—once a symbol of hope, now a reminder of the barrier inside him. The barrier he had begged the Creator of Gods to lock in place, to keep his power tethered, to spare his humanity from the crushing weight of divine vengeance.
But maybe I begged too late.
Memories came to his mind. He remembered his first official day in Division Five, Karu's steady nod, Kisuke´s grin, and jokes shared under the training hall's dim lights. He felt Rylen's steady presence beside him. Always watching him, and Jason's laughter and unserious behaviour. He saw Ayumu practicing her gravitational powers, Kagetsu teaching sword and blade forms, Cho teaching him how to run even faster, Lisa weaving protective wards.
All of them had believed in him. That he would win this battle.
Lucien his vision blurred. His vision almost went completely black.The ring pulsed, a soft heartbeat echoing in his chest.
Creator of Gods… please hear me.
He swallowed against the pain. Remove the limit that you set on me. Unlock the God of Vengeance within me. I beg you Creator.
Silence answered. The rift-shadows danced, but no power came.
Lucien's heart thundered. He saw them at the boundary line. He raised a trembling hand toward them—his friends.
Please don't let me fail you now.
Then Lucien heard laughter. A slow, measured footstep clicked on broken stone. Lucien felt it before he saw it. Time around him stilled. Even the fractured gravity paused its looping. He turned his head slightly and it was just enough to glimpse Seryx's silhouette emerging from the fractured horizon—tall, flawless as obsidian, blades circling him like a halo of broken time.
Lucien felt for the first time what it is like to be afraid. Even injured, even broken, he recognized the predator's grace.
Seryx stopped at the edge of Lucien's vision. The hundred fractal blades hovered around his head, cold and humming. A pale breeze whispered around them.
"Such a pathetic sight to see," Seryx said softly, voice echoing through the arena. He took a couple more steps forward, each pace measured. "Kneeling, wounded, trembling… You thought you could stand as a god. You thought you beat me. Your pathetic and weak."
Lucien's rage grew. He dared not look at Seryx's face. He didn't feel worthy to look at Seryx now.
"I expected much more from you. The First said you were the next big thing but you're nothing more than a normal human," Seryx continued, circling Lucien like a serpent. "I see no divine blood. No secret heritage. No greater destiny." Seryx paused for a second, leaning in close enough that Lucien felt the heat of his aura. "You're just a sad and angry boy with a fancy ring—and that ring shackles you, keeps you small. It keeps your true powers hidden."
Seryx's tone dripped with contempt. He pressed a single small blade's tip against Lucien's shoulder, slicing through skin and bone in a single clean line. Lucien flinched but forced himself to stay still.
"Do you feel that, Lucien" Seryx whispered in his ear. "That's your last reserves of hope bleeding out. That's your chance of victory slipping away." He withdrew the blade slowly out of Lucien his shoulder, the wound blossoming red. "No god can save you now. Not even your beloved Creator can save you now."
Lucien's vision tremored. It became red and black.The voices that were behind him grew louder, more frantic. But he didn't want to look back at them. His focus narrowed to the blade's edge, to the mesh of pain and dark steel.
Foolish god, you think this will break me.
He swallowed. But the words died on his tongue as Seryx advanced again, blade after blade drawing blood out of his body.
Lucien's strength unraveled. From one knee, he toppled forward. He landed face-first on the shattered ground of the arena, his hands were splayed in pools of his own blood. The world around him spun. The sky-fragments above him wavered. His vision fragmented into shards of light and dark.
He tried to lift his head. His muscles refused to work with him. The voices of his friends became less loud, shifting into a jagged echo.
I'm going to…
Pain bloomed in his back as Seryx's next blade punctured his spine. This time it was precise—piercing his spine then a rib, each movement methodical. Lucien gasped for air, sharp agony ripping through him, then dulling into a slow burn.
He sank deeper into unconsciousness. Memories flooded in, unbidden:
The kitchen of Division Five's where Emiluna and Rylen always made breakfast.
The soft laughter of Emiluna when Jason cracked a joke.
Jason's playful challenge, "Bet you can't dodge this," followed by a friendly fist-push that shattered a boulder.
Rylen´s quiet comfort after a hard day of training.
Emiluna´s grin when Rylen finally cracked a joke about Lucien's white hair.
They surrounded him—warmth, laughter, shared burdens. Memories of camaraderie and belonging.
I'm… so close.
His chest became heavy, but no air came in or out. His vision dimmed to black around the edges. He felt Seryx's shadow pass over him, heard distant laughter—half triumph, half pity.
This is it. He thought. This is the end.
But even as darkness crept in, a faint spark flickered in his mind—like a heartbeat.
Creator…
His consciousness slipped. The world faded into a void of pain and crimson. He tasted iron. He heard Seryx's mocking voice, but it was distant, as if coming from underwater:
"Sweet dreams, Lucien. You are a mere human after all. I couldn´t even go all out."
And then
Silence.
A silence deeper than death filled the Crucible. Lucien lay motionless, awareness drifting at the edge of oblivion. Then—like a candle lit in infinite dark—a voice touched his mind.
"Lucien."
Gentle, resonant, neither male nor female. But she had the same feminine appearance as always. It carried the weight of galaxies. The Creator of Gods.
"Your vessel is failing. You are going to die," the voice continued. "I can unlock the true power of the God of Vengeance, remove every limiter, but only for ten minutes. If you go beyond that, and you will die."
Lucien's fading thoughts flared. Ten minutes… Enough.
His lips moved, soundless: "Do it now."
"Swear it—this power is not for pride, but to protect."
Images of Rylen's steady posture and focused eyes, Jason's brave grin and broad shoulders, Emiluna's soft smile—everyone he loved—rose before him.
"I swear."
Purple-white light burst from the ring on Lucien's chest, flooding every crack in the floor. Pain flipped to heat—searing, cleansing, unstoppable. His wounds healed instantly; broken bones snapped straight; torn muscles braided into steely cords.
He finally rose. In his true form.
Everything beneath his feet got destroyed as he stood tall—shoulders broader, frame packed with coiled strength. Veins shimmered violet beneath skin that now glowed faintly, as if lit from within. His hair streamed silver-white, feathered by unseen wind. Most striking were his eyes: twin amethysts blazing with living fire inside of it.
Each breath hummed like a war-drum.
The ring itself morphed, engravings blazing with runes of vengeance. A thin timer circled it the ring, each segment dimming—ten glowing shards, already bleeding towards nine.
At the boundary line, his friends and comrades froze in place.
Rylen's jaw slipped open. "What the—"
Jason's kinetic gauntlets fizzed. "He—he looks like a final boss in a videogame!"
Ayumu pressed both hands to her chest. "Lucien… is that really you?"
Kagetsu's swords quivered; he bowed instinctively. It was as if his body knew that a new god had been born. Emiluna's eyes filled with tears of awe. Cho murmured an ancient japanese prayer; Kisuke let out a low whistle. Lisa's wards fluttered like startled birds, reacting to Lucien's new aura.
Lucien turned to them, offering them a small, calm nod. "I'm still Lucien. The one that you guys always knew," he said, voice deeper yet steady. "But we only have ten minutes. I need to kill this thing"
The team felt the countdown in those words. Courage burned behind their fear.
Across the arena, Seryx paused. For the first time, a spark of genuine delight flickered in the flames behind his obsidian mask.
"Marvelous," he screamed out of joy, voice trembling with greed. Lines of gold fire crawled along his armor, illuminating fractal etchings. "So this is the undiluted God of Vengeance. Now we can really test both our true powers against eachother.."
The hundred hovering blades chimed like crystal bells as they realigned. Seryx lifted both of his arms—and the arena itself answered. Gravity inverted, then snapped back. Time-rifts widened, shedding sparks of midnight blue.
"So we ´ re going all out for ten whole minutes. No more restraint, then," he whispered. "Let me show you my true resonance."
He did not change shape; instead, the world around him bent. A corona of black-violet lightning spun outward in a slow sphere, turning reality translucent. Within that sphere, possibilities overlapped: ten thousand silhouettes of Seryx all stepping in perfect unison.
Lucien's sharpened senses felt the power surge—a tidal wave ready to crash. His ring ticked down to eight.
Lucien clenched his fist. He felt something inside him chaged. Purple fire licked his knuckles, condensing into a blade of pure intent—no metal, just vengeance shaped into the edge. He slashed once the air split, leaving a gaping scar that hissed shut an instant later, then he dashed forwards. From then on he knew it. His speed had no limits anymore.
Seryx answered by flexing a finger; a dozen time-knives snapped to attack positions, tips aimed at Lucien's heart.
The Crucible Arena that the Council had built was designed to never be destroyed, even when multiversal powers were used. The arena was designed so that no one, with any kind of power, could destroy it. So that battles could continue indefinitely until there was a winner.. But then cracks glowed. Distant pillars collapsed in slow motion, sliding out of conventional time.
"Come on, mortal-turned-god," Seryx taunted. "Burn your ten minutes against eternity."
Lucien lifted the vengeance blade to guard, feet steady. "Ten minutes is all I need to win."
They launched at each other.
But before impact—silence again. Both stopped dead at the center line, barely two strides apart, a hair's breadth from collision, power thrumming between them like a live wire.
Lucien could smell scorched stone, feel ions dancing on his skin. He looked straight through Seryx's mask; the flames inside reflected his own purple glare.
For Division Five. For every life this monster has twisted. For my own right to choose.
Seryx seemed to read the resolve and smiled—thin and hungry.
Around them, the Crucible sky opened wider, showing glimpses of swirling universes, red storms of raw causality. The timer glyph on Lucien's ring slipped into the ninth guard. The first minute was over.
Lucien conjured a sword out of thin air. Then they both raised their weapons—vengeance flame and fractal sword—edge meeting edge in a silent promise.
The next heartbeat would decide gods and mortals alike.
Tick.