Iskander left under the pretense of gathering supplies, but instead, he created a cure for Theron's family and something else. Cael saw him making liquids, one red and one blue, harmless separately but deadly when combined: the PaleDeath.
Cael had requested vengeance, but witnessing it was another matter. He saw Iskander meet with the freed slave who spread the rumors and decapitate him, despite his compliance.
He walked the empty streets of Oakhaven towards the town center, poured the blue liquid, then the red, and left as the white smoke rose. It spread slowly at first, then like wildfire. Screams of agony erupted from every home it touched. The air burned, melting flesh, as Iskander watched from outside the town.
The PaleDeath engulfed Oakhaven, causing everyone within to decay: women, men, children. Cael watched the horror through Iskander's eyes, feeling as if he were there. The King remained unfazed, his gaze cold, his heart untouched by the carnage. He watched silently as those who fled but encountered the mist collapsed, their bodies melting as they begged for help. He felt nothing - no regret, no thrill - for he found no joy in killing the weak. He had merely created another circumstance to observe, but in that moment, he felt nothing but emptiness.
When the screams subsided, Iskander returned to Oakhaven after the mist dissipated. He walked among the dead, witnessing those still alive crawling in agony. He observed their melted innards, the steaming blood painting the streets crimson, and the stench of decaying flesh filling the air. He saw families fused together, their flesh melted as they clung to each other in their final moments.
He approached the Thornes' residence, looking upon the unrecognizable, melted forms of the family. He found Ilya's body, holding her brother and father's hands. A smirk crossed his lips as he confirmed her demise.
He then went to Elian's study, observing the old man's melted form still clutching a book.
He then left, searching for Ronan but unable to find him. He departed the town of death, returning to his companions before their journey to Meridium. He needed Cael to Apotheosis, to leave Erathos, aware that he risked exposure after giving him his blood. Despite controlling every aspect of Cael's life and anticipating every outcome, uncertainty lingered. Every action he took had a purpose, a role in his grand scheme, creating circumstances, influencing outcomes, leading towards a single goal.
As the light faded, Iskander stood motionless, staring at the ground. His companions watched in awe, having heard tales of his power but never imagining its true extent until now.
"Unbelievable!" Astrid exclaimed.
"He did it!" Tamsin said, a smile spreading across her face.
"This is truly the work of gods!" the Grave-Walker declared.
Iskander ignored them, processing the assimilated energy. He scanned his surroundings, discovering Ronan and five others lurking near the exit, along with the group of beings he had drained to open the rifts.
Cael snapped out of his reverie, his eyes shifting colors as he glared at Iskander, unable to move. "Bastard!" he screamed, his voice echoing through the hall. "Liar!"
Iskander lifted his head, a smirk playing on his lips, and looked at Cael. The young man trembled, trying to process what he had seen. His mind was clouded, overwhelmed by the horrifying truth. He felt his heart race, his blood run cold, his sense of self fading as if his soul were about to depart.
Rage consumed him, and he yearned to drive his sword through Iskander's heart. But his body, still weakened from the Apotheosis, betrayed him. He could only glare at the immortal with his crimson eyes.
"So, you know," Iskander said coldly. "You really can use ChronoViewing without a condition."
"I trusted you with everything!" Cael cried. "Why did you do that to me? To them? WHY?"
"I know," Iskander replied curtly. Cael tried to rise as the immortal approached, but his body refused to obey. Iskander knelt before him; his expression filled with disappointment, and with a touch, petrified the terrified young man.
Astrid and Tamsin, confused, ran towards them while the Grave-Walker hung back. "You did it, Iskander!" Astrid exclaimed.
"I can finally see my brother again!" Tamsin shouted with joy.
Iskander stood and walked towards them, a smile on his face. He raised his arm and, with a swift motion, unleashed a gust of wind that ripped the women to shreds, their blood staining the ground.
He then vanished and reappeared behind the Grave Walker. The man felt a cold shiver and instinctively tried to flee, but it was too late. Iskander touched him, and his body exploded from the inside out. Blood splattered everywhere, evaporating upon contact with the invisible barrier surrounding the immortal.
Iskander turned his gaze to Cael, whose eyes had faded back to brown. The young man trembled, trying to deny what he had witnessed. He remembered Iskander's smiles during their training and travels, smiles that were nothing like the one he wore now. "WHY?! Why kill them?!" he cried, tears streaming down his face.
"This is the way of things," Iskander replied, his silver eyes glowing. "I have guests arriving and need to minimize information leaks. Consider it mercy; they were already dead men walking. As are you, but you already know that."
"Was everything a lie?!"
"You should know; you read my time," Iskander said, walking back to Cael. "You saw him, didn't you? That Traitor?" His expression hardened.
"I did!" Cael shouted. "I know what you are. You're just like us; flawed and weak."
Iskander tilted his head and smiled. "I've lived far longer than you can imagine. And no, I am not like you. You wander through life thinking you know where you are going, but you know nothing. I became the light you chose to follow, giving your lives purpose. I am free to do as I please." He stopped before the petrified Cael. "Besides, after countless failed trials with your kind, I realized you function best with a sense of purpose. That is what I provided."
"A choice based on a lie is no choice!" Cael screamed.
"Reviving the dead?" Iskander scoffed, kneeling before him. "Let me enlighten you, herd boy. Death is an absolute law of existence, an unyielding truth. Like time, it cannot be ruled. No one returns from the dead. If such knowledge existed, I would possess it."
"Why do you hate us so?" Cael asked, his eyes turning red.
"Hate you?" Iskander exclaimed. "I don't hate you or your kind. Your existence stimulates me. You even amaze me at times, forcing me to re-evaluate my understanding. I learn from you, and in return, I provide your lives with meaning. A fair exchange, don't you think?"
"Your life among us vermin has corrupted you," Cael stated, his eyes shifting to indigo. "You are afraid, greedy, mad, a liar, and a deceiver. You are no god, not even a man; you are a coward, a fickle cheat!"
Iskander smirked, tilting his head.
"Screw you!" Cael screamed, his right eye turning crimson. He felt as if a knife had pierced his heart. His mind was focused on one thing: killing Iskander. Despite the loss of his loved ones and his impending demise, hatred and rage consumed him. He desired nothing more than to kill the immortal, no matter the cost. "You killed those I loved and forced me to make a monstrous choice. I would give up everything for one chance to kill you!" he snarled.
"Do not whine about the path you chose," Iskander said, his gaze resolute, a strange smile on his lips. He stood, looking down at Cael. "Boy, do not blame me for your decisions. I merely gave you purpose, a direction. You chose to follow. You asked for my help, and I delivered justice. I gave you more than I owed you. Now, I want what you hold within you before you die; the source of your secrets is valuable."
"Bastard!" Cael spat on his leg.
Iskander turned towards the gate. "It seems my guests have arrived earlier than expected. Sleep for now," he said, pointing at Cael's head and rendering him unconscious. He fell onto his back, inert.