The underground chamber hummed faintly not from power, but from the strain of the devices Quill had set up.
Twelve rune-plates circled Malerion, each one glowing in a precise rhythm.
Not boosters.
amplifiers.
Only concealment devices, designed to swallow whatever madness usually erupted whenever he touched the threshold of the next Ring.
Quill double-checked the stabilizers for the fourth time.
"Okay… okay. These are holding," he muttered, wiping sweat from his temples. "Spatial flares, resonance pressure, emotional bleed all suppressed.
If you blow a hole in reality, no one outside the room will know."
Malerion opened one eye.
"That's the reassuring version?"
"It's the ONLY version," Quill sighed.
He stepped back.
Inside Malerion, the Fourth Ring rotated slowly too slowly.
It had become dense, heavy, swollen with everything he had lived through in the last years:
The hybrid war.
Vael's political shadow.
Sin Rouge's rise.
Verosika's presence.
And his own decision to stop living in fear of "canon."
Every emotion every sin fed the Ring.
choice hardened it.
Tonight, it had reached its limit.
he would break through.
A soft crackle rolled through the air as a familiar voice brushed the back of his mind smooth, amused, unmistakably alive:
"Well, well… finally ready, are we?"
Alastor.
Malerion didn't open his eyes.
"Yes."
Alastor's voice was as sharp and confident as the day the Radio Demon first arrived in Pride not diminished, not altered, not broken.
"You understand what comes with the Fifth Ring, don't you?"
A playful hum followed.
"When you break it, your raw power will stand shoulder to shoulder with mine."
Malerion breathed out slowly.
"That's the point."
"Oho!"
Alastor laughed, delighted.
"I do like the sound of that. A proper rival is ALWAYS entertaining."
Quill glanced over, confused by Malerion's half-smile.
"You good?"
"I'm ready."
"Good," Quill muttered. "Because once you start… there's no stopping it.
And I'd like to keep the building intact."
Malerion exhaled.
And let go.
The Fourth Ring twisted once violently then cracked.
A pulse of resonance hit the runic plates.
Quill cursed.
"Hold hold HOLD!"
The plates flared blue, swallowing distortions before they could escape.
Inside, Malerion felt the Ring rupture not like glass, but like a cocoon tearing open.
The force rushed outward and inward at once, collapsing and unfolding into something larger.
A moment of weightless silence.
Then
The Fifth Ring snapped into existence.
Smooth.
Perfect.
Overflowing with controlled gravity.
Power rolled through his body vast, quiet, full.
He opened his eyes.
No explosion.
show.
Just depth.
A new stability that felt almost identical to the presence he felt whenever Alastor himself approached.
Alastor's voice slid back into his mind, warm and smug:
"Well now… look at you."
Malerion straightened.
"I did it."
"You did," Alastor confirmed. "And at this level, your strength sits comfortably beside mine. Not imitation parity."
A pause.
"How deliciously unexpected."
Malerion let the energy settle.
"Then the next step"
"Ah-ah," Alastor interrupted with a chuckle.
"One miracle at a time. The Sixth Ring…"
His tone turned low, almost reverent.
"That would place you beyond me."
Malerion's pulse quickened.
"Good."
Quill, still staring at him like at a walking explosion, finally breathed:
"…You're alive."
Yes.
"You're sane?"
For now.
Quill sagged onto a crate.
"Good. Fantastic. Amazing. Let's never do this again."
He no longer feared the path.
Longer dimmed himself to protect a timeline he no longer served.
He had stepped into top Overlord-tier power.
Into Alastor's league.
And the next step…
would be something no one in Hell was ready for.