As the sun dipped low over the horizons of the powerful Terra Universe.
it was casting some sort of an elongated shadows across the toxic sandy expanses that separated the Gristle Hollow from the Cosmic Base.
Paulo Satoshi and Riku Masusa trudged throughout the dunes, their footsteps was now leaving faint imprints that were quickly erased by what was the whispering winds.
Paulo's blue hair fluttered slightly under his blue hoodie.
His mismatched eyes, one blue gleam, the other green cosmic vortex in his powerful eye, scanning the terrain with a weary vigilance.
Paulo's power level was hummed and was at a steady 500 million without the usage of the Zone, but the recent battles had left an invisible weight on his shoulders.
Beside him, Riku, with his very bright red vampire eye and blue adaptation eye.
He now adjusted his large black hoodie, his red hair mirroring Paulo's in a familial echo.
At a power level of 730 million without the usage of the Zone, Riku was a force, but even he felt the toll of their victories.
"Paulo, you think the base held up after that skeleton raid?" Riku asked, his voice was cutting through the silence like a blade.
He glanced sideways at Paulo, noting the subtle tension in Paulo's posture, the way his hands clenched intermittently, as if gripping an invisible weapon.
His lips tightened into a thin line, "It better have Riku. Yuki and the others are not pushovers. But if Momo's large and powerful forces left any lasting damage..."
His voice trailed off, laced with a cold edge.
Paulo then looked at The memory of the disintegrating Momo Yokoyama, the Monarch of Death, lingered like a phantom pain.
Or had he?
In the chaos of that final clash, amid the swirling energies of his Tengu form and copied blood magic, he had spared her, kept her alive in secret, locked away in a chamber only he knew of.
The decision gnawed at him, a secret that would someday unravel everything.
As they crested the final dune, the Cosmic Base came into view.
It had been a giant, scarred battlefield of the huge and amazing Terra Universe, craters from blood scythes, the shattered walls from the lightning barrages, and old lingering shadows from Momo's domain, was now restored.
The five structures gleamed under the fading light: the central command hub with its cosmic energy conduits pulsing green.
The barracks was reinforced with vengestone barriers.
the large and tough training grounds smoothed over.
the armoury stocked anew, and the medical bay humming with regenerative auras.
It was as if the war had never touched the base.
Yuki Fujimoto stood at the entrance, her cheerful tengu features lighting up as she spotted them.
Her wings now folded neatly behind her, and her eyes sparkled with that unyielding affection for Paulo.
With a massive power level of 600 million, she was the Tengu Princess, second in command, and her presence was a balm.
Beside Yuki was Momoi, the pink-haired and former Ghostface captain turned into a cosmic soldier four weeks ago.
Momoi Saito's black hoodie was filled with bright pink stripes, but they are slightly dusty from the reconstruction efforts.
Her 200 million power level belied her strategic mind.
"Paulo! Riku!" Yuki called, rushing forward with open arms.
Yuki then enveloped Paulo in a hug, her warmth contrasting the cold void that he had felt since the battles ever started three days ago. "We fixed everything. Momoi was a lifesaver, she was not here during the attack, but she showed up right after and coordinated the repairs like a pro."
Momoi nodded modestly, her pink hair swaying, "It was nothing. I used some old Ghostface tech to reinforce the base walls. Vengestone was infused to absorb any residual magic that was left from the attack. The base is stronger than before."
Riku then smirked, clapping Momoi on the back and then clapping his hands, "Good work. Paulo took care of Momo on our end. She's dust now."
Riku then glanced at Paulo, who remained silent, his expression unreadable.
Paulo pulled away from Yuki gently, forcing a nod, "Yeah. Dust."
The lie sat heavy in his throat, but he pushed it down, "Gather everyone in the command hub. We need to talk strategy. The Semifinals for the Bloodmoon Queen Tournament starts in a day. Riku and Rajin are up first."
***
Inside the main hub, the group assembled around a holographic table projecting the tournament bracket.
Rajin Mori, the Tengu Heir at a power level 225 Million in human form and 550 million in Tengu form, sat with his red eyes focused intently.
His half-human and half-tengu build made him an imposing figure.
Tetsuya, Maki, Riku, Yuki, and the others filled the seats, their cosmic soldier auras flickering like loyal flames.
Paulo stood at the head, his voice steady but intense, "Listen up. The tournament is not just about crowning a consort for Princess Akagi, it is a power play. Ghostface remnants, other monarchs, they are all vying for influence in the Bloodmoon Kingdom. Riku, Rajin, you are facing Rayan's champions in the semis. We can't afford slip-ups."
Riku leaned forward, his adaptation eye glowing faintly, "I've got this. My true vampire form pushes me to a billion without the Zone, and with Tengu fusion and the Zone, my power levels are in the Octillions. Rajin and I sync well. blood and lightning combos will shred them."
Rajin grunted in agreement, "I've been training my blood manipulation. Dual Blood Punches, Blood Dragon Kicks, I'll cover the close range while Riku adapts to their tricks."
Yuki chimed in, her voice laced with concern, "But Paulo, what about you? The monarchs will be watching. Lucy, Antares, the others... your history with Lucy..."
Paulo's eyes flashed, the green cosmic one swirling, "Lucy betrayed me two and a half million years ago. She is nothing to me now. Focus on the fight. We win this, we solidify our empire."
The discussion dragged on, intense debates flying back and forth.
Momoi suggested infiltration tactics, drawing from her Ghostface past, "We could plant cosmic soldiers as scouts in the crowd. Detect any sabotage."
Tetsuya nodded, his lightning energy crackling in his palms, "And if things go south, I can fry the arena's barriers."
Paulo cut in sharply, "No. We play clean until they do not. Riku, Rajin, drill your combos. Blood Slash Barrage into Lightning Dragon God Kick. Adapt and overwhelm."
Hours passed in heated strategy sessions, voices rising in passion.
Riku demonstrated a Dual Blood Kick, shattering a training dummy, while Rajin countered with a Blood Clone evasion.
Paulo watched, his mind elsewhere, the secret of Momo burning like radiation in his veins.
***
As night fell over the base, the stars of the Terra Universe twinkled like distant souls.
The group dispersed to rest, but Paulo slipped away, his footsteps silent as he navigated hidden passages beneath the command hub.
He arrived at a sealed chamber, warded with cosmic energy only he could breach.
Inside, chained to a vengestone altar, was Momo Yokoyama.
She was the Monarch of Death, her scythe-master form battered but alive, her eyes, dark pools of shadow, locking onto him with a mix of defiance and resignation.
"You... kept me alive," she rasped, her voice a whisper of decay, "Why? To gloat? To torture?"
Paulo approached, his blue vampire eye gleaming, "Not torture. Fusion."
He placed a hand on her forehead, cosmic energy surging, "Your memories, your powers, they'll make me stronger. But you'll live on in me."
Momo's eyes widened, "Fusion? You mad vessel... my shadows will consume you!"
The process began with a torrent of energy.
Paulo channelled his Cosmic Eye, copying her essence, Blood Scythe, Shadow Manipulation, all of it.
Their auras merged, green cosmic radiation blending with her crimson death aura.
Pain lanced through him as Momo's memories flooded in: her rise as Monarch, the skeletons she commanded, the raids she orchestrated, the loneliness of her eternal undeath.
Betrayals, losses. echoes of his own past.
Momo screamed, her form dissolving into ethereal wisps that absorbed into Paulo's body, "No! You will regret this... my despair will be yours!"
The fusion completed in a flash of shadowy light.
Paulo staggered, his power surging, now infused with death's touch.
But the depression hit like a wave.
Momo's memories replayed: watching loved ones decay, commanding armies of the undead only to feel hollow victory.
It mirrored his grief over Hana, over Yuki's near-loss, over Lucy's betrayal.
Tears stung his eyes, unbidden.
He was stronger, yes, power level spiking, but the weight... it crushed.
No one knew.
He sealed the chamber, emerging into the night, his face a mask of stoicism hiding the storm within.
***
Dawn broke, and the group mobilized.
Portals then shimmered as they travelled to the Bloodmoon Kingdom.
A realm of crimson skies and towering spires.
The air hummed with anticipation for the tournament.
They arrived at the capital, bustling with warriors, merchants, and spectators.
"Stick to the plan," Paulo instructed, "You all head to the inn, The Crimson Veil. Blend in, scout. I will join the other monarchs at the Royal Pavilion. Keep comms open."
Riku nodded, gripping Paulo's shoulder, "You've been off since last night. Everything good?"
Paulo forced a smile, "Just memories. Go."
The group parted. Riku, Rajin, Yuki, Momoi, and the others checked into the inn, a lavish establishment with red velvet drapes and blood-crystal chandeliers.
They settled in a suite, tension thick.
Yuki paced, "Paulo's hiding something. I can feel it."
Rajin crossed his arms, "He's always hiding. But he is our leader. We trust him."
Momoi analysed a map, "The arena's warded against external interference. Our fights tomorrow, Riku, Rajin vs. Rayan's duo. They are manipulators of fire and ice. We counter with blood and adaptation."
Riku practiced a Light Slash, energy flickering, "I'll adapt to their elements. Rajin, your Blood Dragon Kick will pierce any freeze."
Their dialog now intensified, strategies evolving into mock spars, Dual Blood Punches clashing with imagined counters, voices rising in tactical fervour.
***
Meanwhile, Paulo arrived at the Royal Pavilion, an opulent structure atop a cliff overlooking the arena.
Guards bowed as he entered, his titles, Cosmic Vessel, Monarch of Radiation, preceding him.
Inside, the four monarchs awaited: Lucy Lightheart, radiant in angelic glow; Antares, the fiery warrior; Rayan Andre, the strategic mind; and Izuki Remioka, the enigmatic seer.
"Paulo," Antares boomed, clapping him on the back, "The vessel returns. Heard you dusted Momo. Impressive."
Rayan nodded, "Your empire grows. The tournament will evaluate it further."
Izuki smiled mysteriously. "Fates intertwine here."
But Lucy approached, her eyes soft with ancient regret, "Paulo... it's been eons. Can we talk? About us, about Rika..."
Paulo's gaze turned icy, his voice a blade, "Us? There is no us, Lucy. You betrayed me, slept with Izumi, bore Rika thinking she was mine. Two and a half million years, and you expect forgiveness? Stay away."
Lucy's face crumpled, "I was wrong. The prophecy... I thought—"
"Save it," Paulo snapped, turning away.
The depression from Momo's memories amplified his coldness, flashes of her betrayals merging with his own, "We're here for the tournament. Nothing more."
Antares intervened. "Easy, Paulo. Tensions are high. Your team fights first tomorrow. Rayan's champions are no joke."
Rayan smirked, "Indeed. Firestorm and Frostbite, they'll melt and freeze your boys."
Paulo's eyes narrowed, "Riku and Rajin will adapt and slaughter. Bet on it."
The conversation turned heated, monarchs debating alliances, prophecies, and the Cosmic King's full awakening.
Paulo participated curtly, his mind a whirlwind of fused memories, Momo's skeletal armies marching, her scythe reaping souls, her inner void echoing his depression.
As evening fell, he stared out over the kingdom, the weight of fusions, betrayals, and impending battles pressing down.
The semifinals loomed, but for now, the fractures within simmered.