Chapter 7: The Forging of the System
The void pulsed with power. With their pact sealed, the Ten Supremes and Noah Draven stood in a circle that shimmered with runes of eternity. Their presence alone bent space, time, and reason.
The Dragon Supreme spread his wings of molten light, raising one clawed hand.
"Then let it begin."
From each of them, a wisp of brilliance tore free—slivers of memory and consciousness, glowing spheres of pure self. Noah gasped as his own fragment floated upward, far dimmer than the others, yet steady. Around him, the ten orbs shone like suns.
The Sage's fragment outshone them all. It pulsed with a serenity so vast, so unfathomable, that Noah felt as though he were staring at the heartbeat of the cosmos itself.
One by one, the orbs drifted to Kronexus. The Machine God's body split open into lattices of gears and fractal data-streams, devouring each orb with threads of light. His voice echoed like a thousand processors running at once.
"Assimilation commencing. Sequential processing engaged."
Zoryth's orb of shifting elements dissolved into raw code. Arvannon's primal flame roared within the machine. Nyxar's shadow curled like tendrils through the circuits. One after another, the Machine God devoured the memories, layering them into a new architecture.
When the Sage's turn came, the void shuddered. Kronexus' mechanical form whined, trembling with strain. Sparks of overdrive burned across his armor.
"In…information density… overwhelming."
For a moment, Noah thought the Machine God would shatter. But then the storm subsided. Kronexus exhaled—a sound like cooling steel.
At last, a single orb emerged from his chest. It floated before them, crystalline and radiant, woven from all eleven souls. Runes swirled across its surface, glowing with a rhythm like a heartbeat.
A treasure never before seen: the System of Eleven.
Veytharion suddenly stepped forward, his claw snatching the orb with decisive force. He closed his eyes, talons weaving sigils across its surface.
"Privacy functions," he muttered.
Kronexus tilted his head. "Unnecessary. Explain."
The Dragon snorted, his lips curling into something between pride and embarrassment.
"Trust me, you'll thank me later. There are… memories unfit to share. My wives, my… moments of dominion. They belong only to me." His burning gaze swept across the circle. "Counterparts or not, I will not bare those."
For a heartbeat, silence. Then, to Noah's astonishment, the Supremes actually nodded in relief. Even the Angel's halo dimmed a little, his cheeks faintly pink.
Kronexus' gears clicked in confusion. "I fail to understa—"
"Shut up, machine." Samael's voice slithered in. "You'll never get it."
The Demon Supreme's grin widened as he strode forward. "In fact, let me do the opposite." He plunged his claw into the orb, runes flashing scarlet. When he withdrew, his laughter rolled like thunder.
"I've unlocked some of my private memories. Demonic seduction techniques. The finest in all the worlds. Enjoy them, my dear allies."
Every head turned away. Eyes closed. Faces blank. Not a word spoken. But the silence itself was an agreement they all understood.
Noah bit the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing. Supremes or not, they're still… people.
At last, the Crimson Tyrant stepped forward. His presence thickened the void, crimson rivers of blood forming glyphs at his feet.
"Enough games. The bodies fall to me."
With a sweep of his claw, sanguine tendrils lashed outward, shaping flesh and bone from nothing. One by one, husks began to form. They stood pale and empty, like mannequins awaiting souls. The process was swift for most, but when the Angel, Demon, and Dragon were forged, the Tyrant groaned with strain, rivers of blood boiling. Their vessels demanded more.
At last, one hundred and nine husks stood in solemn rows. Ten for each Supreme. Nine for Noah Draven. Only Kronexus was excluded.
The Machine God's voice echoed, steady and sure.
"Irrelevant. I need only data. When I arrive in the new world, I will reconstruct my body in an instant."
Noah stared at the rows upon rows of hollow forms, their faces eerily identical, their eyes vacant and waiting. A shiver crawled down his spine.
One hundred and ten vessels. Eleven souls. One system.
And now… the final act loomed.
The void quivered. Stars dimmed as if the universe itself leaned closer to listen.
The Sage stepped forward, robes shimmering like constellations. His staff tapped once, and the ripple of that sound carried across infinity. His eyes glowed, not with light, but with the unyielding authority of one who spoke in the language of truth.
"Soulless bodies," Orivandus intoned, his voice resonating with command, "one for each, form a line."
The husks trembled, then obeyed. Eleven forms stepped forward, hollow shells of the Supremes and Noah. They stood shoulder to shoulder in a single line—empty, waiting.
The Sage's gaze burned brighter.
"All bodies in one line… combine into one body—Noah Draven."
The command struck like law etched into the marrow of existence.
The husks of the Supremes disintegrated into radiant dust. They streamed forward, dissolving into Noah's vessels, fusing into ten reflections of him. The nine remaining bodies folded inward, merging into Noah's own flesh.
Pain unlike anything he had ever known ripped through him. His breath caught—no, it was more than breath. He was breath, he was flame, he was shadow, he was the blood in the veins of creation. For a heartbeat, he felt as though he could swallow stars, crush planets between his fingers, and outrun the very speed of light.
Yet… something was missing. A hollow ache lingered, unexplainable, gnawing at the edge of his soul.
The Sage's eyes narrowed, he forwarded a wisp of his energy which clamed Noah down in instant, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned toward Kronexus.
The Machine God extended his arms, fractal circuits expanding into latticeworks of silver fire. With precise calculation, he replicated the luminous orb of memories again and again until eleven crystals floated in the void.
"Replication complete," Kronexus declared, voice like overlapping choirs of code. "Commencing link formation."
Threads of energy lashed outward, weaving the crystals together in a web of light. One by one, the Supremes reinforced the links—Dragon's fire seared them unbreakable, Angel's light sanctified them, Demon's abyss hardened them against corruption, and so forth, until the lattice hummed with the power of all ten.
Kronexus adjusted the final node. His talons traced sigils over the crystal meant for Noah. He paused.
"…This much information will shatter his vessel."
Noah's chest tightened. Again, too weak.
Kronexus' optics pulsed, a cold radiance. "Adjustment required." With deft precision, he stripped layers from the crystal, rewriting its function. "I have configured yours for selective retrieval. Information will flow only when necessary, preventing overload. For your understanding… it will operate as a system, much like those in your fiction stories. It will even help you gain power in easier way."
A faint smirk tugged Noah's lips. A system… in my head?
The crystal sank into him, and suddenly he understood. Locks—power and memory sealed behind walls of restraint. Even touching a fraction of it would annihilate him where he stood. Yet the pathway was there, waiting. His other self—Kronexus—had left the keys in his hands.
Looks like I'll have to thank me, he thought wryly.
The Sage raised his staff once more, he glanced at all present, all nodded. His voice rolled across eternity like scripture.
"All Supremes, assimilate into your designated husks."
Light burst from each Supreme. The Dragon roared as his titanic form dissolved into radiant scales. The Angel unfurled his wings, feathers of gold scattering into motes. The Demon's laughter faded as his abyssal form unraveled into crimson fire. Even Kronexus, vast and mechanical, disassembled into smoke and cogs of light.
Streams of essence flowed like rivers of starlight, each seeking its vessel. One by one, the husks shuddered, then opened their eyes—no longer empty, but alive with the fire of supremacy.
Noah stood amidst it all, breathless, watching gods reduced to light, then reborn. The void itself trembled at what they had become.
The Eleven System had been forged.