Chapter 48 – Two Broken Fates
Before a body was possessed by the fragment of the First Human in the world, something had already happened.
Something only the First Human and the First Hellseer knew.
A world they created. Only for themselves.
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The Hidden World
The ashen land split open beneath their feet. Every time Elarion swung his single wing, light burst through the fog of death, slicing the landscape like a heavenly blade. Each time Maxcen countered, darkness wrapped around that light, twisting it into needles that pierced back into Elarion's body.
Explosion after explosion shattered the world's form. Mountains turned upside down, oceans vomited water into the sky, and time jumped forward and backward in a single blink.
"Still the same technique," Maxcen mocked, twisting his fog into a whip that lashed against Elarion's wing.
Elarion staggered, yet his eyes blazed.
"And you still believe power is only about form."
He closed the distance, driving his palm into Maxcen's chest. Starlight burned from within—smoke rising from the body of the great demon.
Maxcen held back his rage.
"You are not whole, Elarion. Half of you is buried somewhere. Half of your power… will never be enough to bring me down."
Elarion smiled faintly.
"You're right. But this half is enough… to begin your end."
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The Hellseer Council
In the Council's main chamber, ancient symbols on the walls lit up by themselves. Saelmir snapped from his meditation, his eyes seeing a blurred vision—two silhouettes clashing in a world unknown. Light and darkness coiled like serpents warring in the sky.
"I cannot see… who they are…" he whispered, sweat trickling down.
Kavdrin stared at his astral scale, trembling. The side of light and darkness shifted weight in turns, as if the world itself was deciding who must fall.
"Something… or someone… is rewriting fate beyond our will," he murmured.
Dorvas, the Warden of Chains, stood as his astral chains rattled—not by his command, but because something was trying to breach the prison of dimensions.
"This… is not our war. But if it continues, every barrier between worlds will collapse and all will be destroyed with it."
The Council members exchanged glances. None yet knew the source of this chaos. All they knew: the world was beginning to change without them as its keepers.
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Enver
In a silent corridor dividing the astral city, Enver halted his steps.
Each stride felt heavier. His heart beat differently—deeper, older, echoing a war he did not know.
His vision split. On one side, the same corridor. On the other, flashes of light cutting through darkness, the screech of metal, waves of collapsing dimensions. A strange feeling seeped into his veins.
Not mine… yet as if… it had always been within me.
His fist clenched. His breath grew tight—not from weariness, but because his body was being forced to witness a clash older than history itself. Then a voice came, flat, without emotion, yet laden with ancient memories.
"Choose, Enver. To be a spectator… or to become one of them."
Enver lifted his gaze. Above him, the astral sky cracked—a small fissure, but enough to spill forth a light unknown to him.
And deep inside, he knew: whatever was fighting beyond that fracture… would soon call him, by force.
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The Hidden World – The Battle Peaks
Maxcen raised both hands, conjuring a vortex of death that swallowed Elarion's starlight. Elarion resisted, igniting the cracks on his body—letting the light leak out, burning the fog from within.
The clash shattered the hidden world like glass, shards scattering outward into other dimensions.
Maxcen stepped back. Elarion still stood.
No one had won—no one had lost. But their world had little time before collapsing entirely.
"This is not over," said Maxcen.
Elarion gave a slight nod.
"It never will be, Maxcen."
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